Seasons of Wither
by Slywolf9
Summary: When one girl's choice is between the love of her life and keeping him alive. HG/DM
1. Pain and Suffering

Hermione sighed and closed her Potions book, rolling up the parchment and setting it carefully inside her bag. She had finally finished her foot long essay, but time seemed to drag on even more slowly than usual. She huffed in frustration and looked at the clock hanging on the opposite wall of the Library. It was only eight 'o clock, and Harry and Ron wouldn't be done with Quidditch practice for another hour or so. Hermione didn't particularly feel like heading up for bed just yet, so she pulled her therapy journal, as she liked to call it, out of her bag and opened it to a fresh page.

Following the death of Sirius last year, Hermione found herself under a lot of grief that she didn't quite know how to handle. She had never lost anyone close to her before, and she was especially troubled that it should happen at such a terrible time. Still, Hermione knew that there would be a lot more troublesome times ahead of her, with a plethora of other deaths. Hermione shuddered. While she disliked all forms of death, she truly hoped the imminent ones weren't going to be any of her loved ones.

Which brought her back to the dilemma at hand. Harry has been quite vicious when it came to the topic of Sirius, blaming himself severely and biting off the heads of anyone around him who tried to give any comfort. Ron was just as reticent about his feelings, but then he and Sirius didn't have quite the same bond as Hermione had with the man. She decided he was much like an older brother, as she had always turned to him for advice after their fateful first meeting in her Third Year. They worried over Harry together, argued Elfish welfare against one another, but overall had more laughs and good memories than she had with anyone other than Harry and Ron. So she was quite devastated when he had…moved on…last June.

Hermione poised her quill over the page, a little drop of ink splattering the first line. She struggled with her thought for a moment before she put them down, her quill flowing across the page with easy eloquence and tiny, neat script.

_Dear Sirius,___

_Why did you leave us? I don't understand the sacrifice. It's so much harder without you. I can't talk to anyone about this. Harry's still grieving, but he's trying, I know. Ron doesn't know what to do either. I'm trying best I can, but it hurts so much. I'm tired of listening...I want someone to listen instead. I want to do the talking. You were always there for that.___

_We had wonderful memories. Did I ever tell you I was sorry for accusing you back in third year? Was it that short of a time ago? It seems like only yesterday. I still can't believe you would eat rats. That was absolutely disgusting. You know, you never did listen to reason. Harry told you not to come and live in that cave, you were told not to leave Grimmauld Place to see us off, and most especially not to leave the house the night that we went to the Department of Mysteries. I suppose that your reckless behavior wasn't all bad, though. It made you…you. It was your rash behavior that was most helpful; it got Harry through the bad times. And, well, it got me through the bad as well._

_Sirius, I miss you every day. All of us do. And I think we always will. But it's okay. Because I got to know you for as long as I did. And I know that I'll never forget you._

_Love from,_

_Hermione_

Hermione frowned slightly when a shadow interrupted her light. Looking up she was just on the verge of telling the person off when she caught sight of who it was. "Malfoy," she hissed. He grinned back at her sarcastically.

"Writing a love letter in your diary, Granger?" Draco asked snidely.

Hermione flushed and felt tears sting her eyes. Sirius was a sensitive subject. "Go to hell," Hermione shot back as she began fumbling around with her things on the desk, trying to force them all into her over-packed bag so that she could escape before she let Malfoy see her cry. She pushed past him and nearly ran out of the library, without turning back.

Hermione didn't see a very curious Draco Malfoy lean down and pick up the black, leather-bound book that had fallen out of her stuffed bag in Hermione's haste to make an exit.

Malfoy grinned and cracked open the book, skimming the contents until he landed on the most recent one. Curiosity clawed at Draco as he slowly read the letter, moving to lean on the table next to him.

Draco's eyes widened more and more as he continued reading the letter. He smirked in a particular way--the word particular here meaning an evil, cruel, and malicious kind of smirk that would bring trouble for Hermione. "So the mudblood misses the murderer." Draco stuffed the book in his pocket, a smirk finding its way to his face. "At least it'll give me some new material to work with."

The next morning, Draco hurriedly finished his breakfast and left the Great Hall, ignoring his cronies' calls. He was more than excited to find some way to torment Granger. Luckily he had his first class with the Gryffindors, Potions. He checked his watch. Ten minutes till class began. Granger would be there soon; she always was early. Draco lurked partially behind one of the suits of armor, hearing a soft pattering of footsteps echoing off the dungeon walls. When he popped out at Hermione, she clutched her heart, her books spilling to the ground, and another grasping wildly for the wall. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the man before her, and Draco grinned in that particular way of his.

"What do you want?" she said calmly, at least for the moment.

"Why, I've just been waiting for you, Granger." Her eyes glared daggers at him. "Are you missing your little dog friend?" Hermione's eyes grew wide and she thought wildly if he had by chance seen her journal. "That's what I thought," Draco replied, smirking at her bewilderment. "I never knew you had a crush on the old man...Never would have thought it from a bookworm like you." He held up the little black book, and Hermione felt her heart skip a beat.

Furious, Hermione turned away and started walking quickly into the classroom but not before muttering, "_Accio!_" Her therapy journal flew out of Draco's hand, a stunned look on his face. He slowly recovered and smirked, enjoying his moment of victory. He slowly walked into the classroom behind her, his fellow classmates arriving behind him. Oh this was going to be fun.

_[The story skips here to several months later. The characters find themselves in a battle against some of Voldemort's Death Eaters, and Hermione arrives in time to see one of the Order being stunned, and Draco being revealed from behind the Order member. Lucius is the prominent Death Eater at the fight, and his rage is clear to be seen at having discovered his own son being the traitor of the Death Eaters' secrets.]_

Hermione froze. She watched in horror as Lucius' face contorted as he realized who it was that was spilling the Death Eaters' secrets. She glanced at Draco, who was looking the opposite way, distracted by a loud bang on the opposite end of the street. Time spanned into forever, and Hermione turned back to look at Lucius. There was bloodlust in his eyes, and Hermione knew that he was going to kill his son. Hermione couldn't find her voice, and yet, she didn't want Draco to be killed. Something inside her told her it was wrong to let her enemy die. He had been helping the Order, and therefore Harry, after all. Hermione's decision came in a moment, and she ran forward.

_"CRUCIO!_" Hermione screamed in pain. It was indescribable. So were the words that were coming out of her mouth. A blond haired boy turned around. He watched in horror as the brunette fell to the ground. And standing behind her was his father.

"You little bastard!" Lucius hissed. "You betrayed us. You sold us out. You will die for your treachery!"

Draco looked on in horror, complete and utter horror that froze him, and only had time to mutter _"Protegro"_ as his father yelled the worst of the three forbidden curses. A pain greater than no other pierced his body. He was made deaf and blind, and he fell to the ground, clutching at his palipitating heart. As soon as it stopped, it seemed as though a knife was pressed through his body and reached into his soul. He felt rather than saw someone come over to him.

"Malfoy," the voice coughed. "Are you alive?" He reached up for the person, still blinded. He grabbed their hair. It was soft, yet bushy. Bushy...Granger. It came to him now...now that he had time to think. Granger had saved him. Granger had taken the curse. He owed Granger his life practically. "Get up," she said, her voice rough and haggard. Draco couldn't move. He felt as though there were a Hippogriff sitting on him. He felt Hermione grab his arm and start tugging him up.

The next thing Draco comprehended was that Hermione had fallen upon him and new voices screamed their names. He heard a muttered spell, and everything became crystal clear, his hearing, and his eyesight. But then so did the pain and reality of the situation. His father was dead. He had killed him.


	2. Pureblood Love

Draco moaned as he rubbed his eyes. Good thing it was dark. Or…was it dark? He couldn't tell. He cracked open his eyes slowly and looked out of the window. The gray sky was beginning to get streaked with pink. He sat up very slowly, not able to stop from groaning. Come to think of it, what was he doing here? In addition to that were was h-Oh shit!

He grabbed his head as it pounded suddenly with all the memories that came flying back. He opened the curtains, a valiant effort on his part. He sat there panting, his arms tired and starting to become sore. How long have I been asleep? He slowly scanned the room. He nearly had a heart attack.

There was Granger. Quill in hand, empty ink bottles all around, parchment rolled up neatly, scraps of paper lying around randomly and a huge book underneath it all. Good think she was still asleep. Draco looked back out the window. The pink was taking up more and more of the sky. He looked back at Granger. "Granger." She didn't move. "Granger." Louder this time. "Granger!" She twitched. Draco huffed impatiently. He poked her. Surprisingly, the touch was gentle, and not harsh as he expected it to be.

"Mmm…That answer is Centipede heads, Ron…" Granger shoved her head deeper into her arms. Draco blinked. In all truth, he didn't know what to feel. He shook her. Again, he was being surprisingly gentle. He shook his head. Something was wrong with him. Granger looked up at him. She blinked and let her head plop down again. A moment of silence. Her head shot up and her mouth opened in shock. "Malfoy!" She jumped into his arms, her ink bottle smashing on the ground and splattering over the floor.

This was the first time a girl had hugged him. Out of his family that is. He could feel his heart beat quicken and a strange feeling shot through him. Safety. Relief. He felt relieved and safe now that she was in his arms. This was definitely not cool. Then he felt her leave his arms, and he felt a bit lonely.

Hermione jumped back as though she had been stabbed. What was she thinking? But it felt better. She could somehow feel safe. And she felt…caring for him. As soon as she got out of there, she was going to slap herself. "S-Sorry…" Stuttering now. Well, she had a good reason. She just EMBRACED her sworn enemy. But that wasn't as bad as saving him…was it? "I was just surprised…We didn't know if you would ever wake up. No one had ever been through something like that. Well, no one except Harry. And…You were asleep for three months! That's a loooong time…"

Malfoy looked surprised. He quickly schooled this emotion, however, and gave her a blank stare. "You're tired." She actually did have bags under her eyes. "Go to sleep." He pointed at the bed next to him. She gave him a stare. She somehow trusted him, but was still uneasy. "I won't hex you." That was all she needed. Hermione walked over to the bed next to him. "I'll wake you up when it's time to go." Hermione nodded. She needed to think about things. This was just too weird.

~~  
Draco was conscious of all the eyes on him. Even the Slytherins were staring. All the whispers began again as he looked for a place to sit. His eyes locked on those of Grangers. She nodded to him and he walked over as quickly as he could. He sat in between her and Potter. This was a catastrophe. He was sitting with his enemies. At least Potter and Weasley just nodded their heads his way, and didn't say anything else. In fact, Draco could hear everything they were saying about him.

"He owes his life to Granger!"  
"Heard he killed his own father!"  
"I heard Dumbledore's going to expel him."  
"Well I heard that the Minister is going to give him a medal for killin' his Dad."

It was really rather unnerving. "Ignore them," Potter said. Draco started. Potter was actually being…nice to him. Thankfully, he was saved from answering by Snape stalking into the classroom. He nodded to Draco and went on to the lesson.

"You will be working in partners today. Best to make friends with the person sitting next to you...That will be your partner for the rest of the year. Hermione felt an overwhelming desire to switch seats with Harry. She HAD to be Malfoy's partner. It was a MUST. And she didn't think Harry liked the idea of partnering with Malfoy for the rest of the year. She glanced at Harry and he understood. When Snape wasn't looking they switched seats. Malfoy looked at her in surprise. Their eyes met for a second, before they both diverted them.

"You will be making a Separation Potion. Seeing as how you are all in Sixth Year, we will be getting into the more complex and dangerous potions. The slightest bit of too much Wormwood could mean death. I advise you to be extra careful." Of course, Hermione thought, as she started to get her ingredients out as the instructions magically appeared on the board, he's just exaggerating.

"Now, the Separation Potion will make you Apathetic for a whole day. Only one of you will take it today, the others will take it tomorrow. You will not feel any caring towards things you normally would, and you may feel differently about things you dislike. You have one hour to complete this potion. One will drink it at the end, finished or not."

They started working:  
A cup of spider legs (to Ron's disgust).  
3/4 a teaspoon of fairy dust.  
Stir clockwise for thirty seconds.  
Add a drop of centaur blood.  
Heat this up to 300 degrees.  
Add 2 cups of gnomish water.  
Stir counterclockwise for 2 minutes.  
Cut your caterpillar into 20ths and add them to the mix.  
Stir clockwise for 10 minutes.  
Let sit for 10 minutes.

"Your time is up," Snape said. His sudden voice had scared the kids out of their stupors. They had been deeply engrossed in this potion for some reason. "Choose which one of you will be drinking the potion and bottle the rest up and hand it to me."  
Draco looked at Hermione. She raised her eyebrows. "You're apathetic enough." She poured half of the potion into a cup and gulped it down. Her face puckered. "Sour," she commented. It was bitter, like lemons and War Heads mixed together. It tasted odd. It tasted kind of earthy (must be the centaur blood and caterpillar) and cold. She suddenly felt light headed. She placed the cup down carefully. Hmm.. Harry had taken the potion too. How would he like it? But what did she care anyway? It was only Harry after all. "I can't believe I just thought that," she breathed. She watched, bored, as Draco and Ron went up to give Snape the rest of the potion.

"Where are you going, Hermione?" Ron asked as Hermione stood up to leave after dinner.

"Well, you and Harry have Quidditch practice, good luck by the way, so I'm going to the library," Hermione replied. "Oh, honestly, Ron, I'll be in the Common Room by the time you get back." Hermione rolled her eyes as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder and walked down the hallway to the library. Ron worried too much.

Hermione set her stuff down at the back of a table and went to get a reference book on Potions for her assignment from that day. She got out her thick Potions textbook and opened it, surprised when a note fell from out of it.

I'll meet you in the library at 8:45. -Draco

Hermione glanced at the clock. Guess she'd have to work on her essay later. She sighed and went to put the book she took out back when she felt someone grab her from behind and pull her close to them. She looked up to see a pale face grinning down at her. Hermione stuck her tongue out at Draco and broke free from him to put he book back. Madame Pince was nowhere to be seen, so Hermione practically crushed Draco in a hug.

Neither really knew what their relationship towards the other was. They didn't exactly qualify for boyfriend/girlfriend, but they were most definitely more than friends. Draco squeezed her then let go. Of course, their meetings were rather short and far between, so they had to carefully plan each one.

Hermione didn't know how long they spent in that hidden corner of the library, whispering to each other, but all of a sudden, the lights turned off and Hermione looked at the clock. Two hours had passed. Quidditch practice would soon be over, if it wasn't already. "Hermione," Draco whispered. Hermione looked at him questioningly. Draco slowly inched forward until their noses touched. "Hermione I-"

Draco was cut off when Hermione suddenly pressed her lips to his and fell on him, forcing them both to the ground.

*~*

She didn't know when it happened, but suddenly Argus Filch was in the library and calling out "Who's there?" Mrs. Norris would give a little hiss. "I know yer there. Come out." Draco grabbed one of their robes and the next second both him and Hermione were concealed under it. Apparently Filch wasn't as sharp as he hoped to believe, for he never did find them, and turned heel the next moment and left.

Hermione giggled into Draco's shoulder. He laid down next to her. "Do you remember in third year," Hermione said after a while of silence, "when I slapped you?"

Draco grimaced. "How could I forget?"

Hermione smiled. "Sorry. But you were such a jerk." Draco ran a hand threw his hair.

"In fourth year, at the Yule Ball." Hermione turned to look at him. "I think that's when I first started to like you." Hermione gaped at him. Draco laughed gently. "I couldn't help it. You were...gorgeous." Hermione blushed a deep red. Draco took her hand and slowly intertwined their fingers. "And last year," Draco said, pulling Hermione close to him, "I'm so sorry about last year." Draco could feel Hermione's tears on his skin. He wrapped her up in his arms. It would be one of the last times he would do this fora very, very long time.

*~*

It was the end of the year, and for once, the only time in recorded history, Harry had had no great adventure. "I suppose the worst thing that happened this year was the death of Kingsley Shacklebolt and the rest that got injured by those Deatheaters." Harry looked weary. The year had taken a toll on him. Harry didn't say anything, but the year had taken a toll on Ron and Hermione too. Ron looked even less vibrant than ever before and Hermione had gained what Harry supposed was stress weight.

"Don't worry, Harry," Ron said, "I already asked Mum and Dad and they want you to stay with us the whole summer. Says its safer for you than being with those muggles anyway. Although nowhere is safe anymore." Harry smiled slightly. The thought of going to the Burrow always made him happy.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Yeah, that sounds good. I just have to get the rest of my stuff from the Dursley's...most of which consist of a pair of socks and year old chocolate frogs." Ron and Hermione grinned at him.

"Sorry I'm late!" Ginny called as she closed the door to their compartment. "Oh, Hermione! I completely forgot! You wanted to talk to me?"

Hermione jumped up. "Yes! Right, well, we'll go find the lunch trolley, and we'll be back!"

"Wonder what that was about," Ron said.

"Dunno," Harry replied, taking out a set of Exploding Snaps. "Girls."

When the girls finally came back, Hermione looking slightly more relaxed than before, and oddly radiant, and Ginny looking happy with only a hint of worry, things livened up a bit.

As Ginny passed around pumpkin juices, Luna and Neville wandered in. "To summer break," Hermione said. They all cheered and passed the different goodies, compliments of Hermione and Ginny, around, talking excitedly about the summer and playing games of chess or Exploding Snaps. It wasn't until Ginny nudged Hermione that she got up and said she thought she forgot something and bolted out the compartment did the party get interrupted.

Walking briskly all the way to the end of the train to a deserted compartment, Hermione tapped tentatively on the window several times. It opened and she walked inside, then quickly locked the door behind her and drew the curtain to obstruct a passerby's view of the compartment. "Draco," she said softly. Said person stepped out of the shadows. There were actual tears in his eyes as he embraced her. They kissed each other blindly, and Hermione held him close as Draco showered little kisses all over her face and neck.

"I love you," she whispered hoarsely.

"I love you too," he replied, his voice shaking.

"Write to me," she begged.

"Every day," he replied.

They stood there for another minute longer, just holding each other, reveling in each others presence until they finally broke apart. And with one last, loving kiss, Hermione closed the compartment door behind her and ran, sobbing, into the arms of a waiting Ginny Weasley.


	3. Potato Soup

"You have to tell."

"No."

"You can't hide it forever."

"I can if I try."

"Tell Mum, she'll understand. Or Tonks."

"And do you remember how hard it was for you to understand? The disbelief? Who would ever understand."

"Hermione!" Ginny grabbed Hermione by the arm and forced her to look into her eyes. "Hermione, you have to. Think of your child."

Hermione slumped against the wall, the stress of all that was going on closing in around her. "Okay," she said in a small voice. "But you have to be with me."

"Of course," Ginny said, helping Hermione off the floor of her tiny bedroom in the Burrow. By the narrow light from the half shuttered windows, Ginny could see just how frightened Hermione was. "It'll be okay. What are they going to do, kill you?" Hermione's mouth twitched as she allowed Ginny to lead her down the old stairs. Being five months pregnant isn't as easy as most would think.

Hermione was still slim enough, but had grown bigger. Her stomach poked out like a bowling ball in a cloth sack and her bust had grown another cup. Her eyes seemed lost and searching, her hair long but still bushy, her skin slightly bronzed from so many hours of being outside. Yet being pregnant wasn't as fun as she thought. Not that she meant to in the first place-she really didn't think it would have happened to her of all people, but it did. She should have known better-she should have stopped, but she couldn't. After all, she loved Draco. Didn't she?

For a long period of time she would sit in a chair and stare blankly at a wall while her mind worked furiously to come up with some way to prevent this. But she couldn't do that. Not to her precious child. Not to herself. Not to Draco. So she kept the child, she kept it a secret, from everyone. Everyone but Ginny. And now Mrs. Weasley. She kept it a secret from Draco.

"Ginny, no-She won't understand. She'll-she'll tell, tell-everyone! I can't," Hermione begged her friend. Ginny shook her head and took Hermione by the arm as she pushed open the kitchen door.

"Mom?" They looked around the kitchen. "Mom-Hermione-"

"Has some explaining to do," came the voice of Mrs. Weasley from behind them. She stood there, holding a letter in a dark green envelope written in silver ink the words Hermione Granger. DM.

"Mrs. Weasley-I, it's..." Hermione took a breath. She shook her head and walked over to sit down in one of the old wooden chairs at the kitchen table. "Please. Sit down. I'll explain."

~*~

"Come on, Ginny. Can you please," Ron shuddered at the use of this word, "get Hermione to play one game of Quidditch with us. Tonks isn't here and we need another Chaser."

"No Ron," Ginny replied.

"Harry, she won't play," Ron called out to his best friend.

Harry skidded to a halt on his broom. He'd only arrived last night with all his belongings. "Never again," he had said. "I am never going back there again." Now all moved into Ron's room, his items- a few pairs of socks, three pairs of jeans, seven shirts, two pairs of trainers, and his Hogwarts trunk complete with all past school items and Hedwig and her cage-took up only a very small space.

"We can take 'em," Harry said, eyeing his opponents. "We have Bill, Charlie I've beaten before, Ginny-is still standing right there. Hi Ginny."

"Hello Harry. I don't know why you even bother asking, when Hermione won't ever-"

"Won't ever what?" Hermione had walked out to them in the back yard. "Oh," she said, spotting their brooms and quaffle. "I suppose-I suppose one game won't hurt," she said.

"Hermione!" Ginny cried in indignance. "Hermione-are you sure you want to? I mean, what if you fell?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, I can't go on being afraid of flying forever, can I?"

"All right, Hermione," Fred said.

"Here you go then," George replied, handing her a Cleansweep. "One of the safest brooms out there."

Hermione mounted her broom as the others took off. She kicked off, and clung tightly to the broom as she lost her balance and nearly toppled off. "Aaaaaaaah! Oh my god-!" she cried as she kept zooming up higher, past the clouds. "It's okay, it's okay. Let's just-You are in control Hermione, you are in control." Hermione forced the broom to go back closer to the ground.

"Ready, Hermione?" Charlie asked her as she maneuvered her broom by him.

"As I'll ever be," she replied.

~*~

"Hermione? You all right?"

She felt as though she was floating to the ground. But someone was carrying her. Oh, that's right. She opened her eyes, afraid of what she might see as she felt the person holding her touch firm ground. Oh wonderful ground. "Yeah I'm-" For a moment she thought she saw violent gray eyes staring at her, but the image slowly faded back into the caring deep blue eyes of Bill Weasley. "I'm fine."

"Hermione Granger!" came the screeching voice of Mrs. Weasley.

"Then again, maybe not," Hermione groaned.

"Hermione! Bill, carry her into the house."

"No it's fine, Mrs. Weasley I can-"Hermione attempted.

"Now!"

Bill looked at Hermione and Hermione seemed to shrink into herself. "All right then, Mom. Hermione." The girl just nodded, hoping fervently he wouldn't notice how heavy she had gotten.  
It was a fair fourth mile back to the house, but to Hermione, it didn't seem long enough. Every step Bill took seemed to be one step closer to her doom. And the wrath of Mrs. Weasley. Really Mrs. Weasley-I'm fine. I was just-just flying about on the broom a bit, well, yes, perhaps I was playing a bit of Quidditch, but no! No, no one knocked me off, okay, well maybe I was nudged by Fred a bit, but well, it was really the gust of wind that made me fall form my broom. But it's all right, see Bill caught me and-

"Thank you, Bill. Just put her on the couch." Mrs. Weasley waited until the door had closed behind her son before starting in on Hermione. "Hermione Granger! I cannot believe that you would do something so stupid as flying about, and playing Quidditch! Especially when you are five and a half months pregnant and especially with Fred and George as Beaters. What were you thinking? If you had fallen off that broom-if Bill hadn't caught you, you might have landed on your stomach. What then?" Hermione shrank farther and farther into the creaky old red couch, until she felt as though she was part of it. "Hermione, when you are pregnant, you have to be cautious.

"For example, did you eat breakfast this morning? Well, a piece of toast is not breakfast. You are going into the kitchen when we are done and eating a bowl of soup. Hermione," Mrs. Weasley's voice became softer. "Hermione-this is hard for you, I know. But it is also hard for me. I don't know what you are going to do when you get back to school-you can't go to class with a baby on your hip. And have you even told Draco about this? As much as I am objective of him being the father, there is nothing I can do. Hermione, if ever he lays a hand on you-"

"He won't." Hermione's voice was surprisingly strong. "I know he won't."

Mrs. Weasley looked skeptical, but nodded and sighed. "Hermione dear, I really must insist upon my request that you tell Albus about this. He will know what to do-he can work out an arrangement." Hermione remained silent. She couldn't tell Professor Dumbledore. What would he think of her. "Well, the soup must be hot. Potato soup. And there's bread. I'll just call them in, you go ahead and help yourself."

Hermione watched the door clatter shut after Mrs. Weasley. She pushed herself off the couch and walked into the kitchen. Who was she to pass up potato soup.

~*~

Hermione winced as she heard her shirt rip in another place. She was getting too big to wear her old clothes. "And that was one of my favorite shirts," she sighed, folding the dark blue shirt and placing it back into her trunk. Her trunk with all her other too small clothes. There was a knocking at the door. "Come in," Hermione said, throwing on her robe to hide her bulging belly.

"Hey, Hermione. Mom wanted me to give you these." Ginny closed the door behind her with her foot and dropped the bundle of clothes she had on Hermione's bed. Luckily Ginny had a larger room, so both girls had enough space for their many things. "These were some of her maternity clothes-well, the ones that don't make it too conspicuous that you're six months pregnant."

Hermione lifted a dark green robe from the pile. Well, that would work. Now why would she wear a dark green robe. Well, Ginny certainly is a wonderful excuse maker. Hermione lifted a yellow shirt from the pile. "Hmmm..."

"Well, you know Hermione, you don't look very pregnant to me. It's almost hard to tell, you know. Mom said that the first time she was pregnant, until she was eight months, no one knew." Hermione gave Ginny a small smile.

"Let's get some ice cream," Hermione said. She waved her wand at the pile of clothes and they instantly folded themselves and sorted themselves into piles of shirts, pants, robes, etc. "Wonderful. I want cookies and cream."

Ginny sighed. Another craving attack.


	4. Fidelity

"Now then, all of you have a good year. Harry, dear, do take care. Ron make sure you pass your classes. Ginny…have a good term dear. Oh, Hermione, a quick word," Mrs. Weasley said as the others began to walk away and board the train. Hermione walked towards Mrs. Weasley slowly, aware that every time she moved, the baby shifted uncomfortably within her. Mrs. Weasley glanced around quickly before removing her wand and waving it over Hermione's stomach. There was an odd, tingling sensation there, but even as she looked down, Hermione could still decipher the bulge from beneath her overlarge robe.

"Mrs. Weasley, what--?"

"Just a concealing spell, dear." When Hermione continued to look confused, she added, "So that unless the person knows you're...well, anyway, that way no one else will be able to tell." Hermione looked exactly as grateful as she felt. At least now she wouldn't have to put up with other girls teasing her about her weight gain; she'd already gotten enough suspicious looks from the other Weasleys and Harry already.

"Mrs. Weasley--" But Hermione was interrupted by the blow of the train's whistle.

"Listen dear, I know that you do not want to, but you _have_ to tell Dumbledore. It's really all that you can do. I was able to help you at home, but now you'll be at school and, well, you just have to Hermione. You have to." Mrs. Weasley put particular emphasis on those last three words.

Hermione nodded numbly. Of course she would. She'd known this for some time. If only she was as close to Dumbledore as Harry is. "I will…Mrs. Weasley…thanks." And Mrs. Weasley pulled her into an embrace, and then shoved her off, wiping her eyes. Hermione jumped onto the slowly moving train, thankful that Harry and Ron had put away her trunk and took Crookshanks for her. Hermione took a deep, steadying breath. Draco would be on this train. And Draco did not know. Hermione gulped. She'd have to talk to Dumbledore first. He'd know what to do. If anyone other than Draco found out…If Voldemort found out…Hermione shook her head. She'd make sure that would never happen.

It had happened before she knew it: Someone had grabbed her and pulled her into an empty compartment, slamming her against the wall. "You think you're so great." It was a girl's voice. Whispering though she was, the screechy tone was unmistakable. "Well, I'm telling you now, you better stay away from Draco." Hermione felt her robe slide away from her stomach and was gladder than ever of that concealment charm. She could feel Pansy's wand poking her chest, and she didn't like it one bit. Hermione could see the ugly pug face glaring at her from the shadows. Slowly Hermione slid out her wand from her pocket, but even before she had time to think of a good hex, the compartment door burst open, and Pansy was shot backwards.

"Touch her again and I'll make sure you'll be calling the Hospital Wing your second home by the end of the week."

And there he was, and Hermione's heart danced. Draco and Ginny stood in the doorway of the compartment, both of their wands raised. "But Drakie…" One cold glare from him sent Pansy scurrying from the compartment. Instantly Hermione was in his arms again, and Draco was kissing her all over her face and stroking her hair, and it was as though no time had passed at all. Those three long, lonely months had never happened, and there was no way possible that she was seven months pregnant. Only when the compartment door slid shut and Ginny cleared her throat did they break apart, gazing at each other as if the other was all they would ever need..

"Hermione," Ginny began, staring pointedly at her stomach. But Hermione shook her head and shot Ginny a warning glance. Ginny peeked out through the curtains and immediately shut them again. "They're looking for you, Hermione."

Hermione shot a despairing look at Draco before muttering, "Find me later," kissing him on the lips again and following Ginny out of the compartment. Draco stood there, his lips still tingling, longing coursing through his body. She had been there for a brief few moments. Hermione, his Hermione. Draco shut the curtains on the window and sat down in the darkness of the compartment. There was something definitely different in Hermione's manner. He was sure she had never held that much tenderness for him before. Was it simply because of the long summer? Or was it something more? And what was with Ginny's pointed look at Hermione's stomach. Surely if she'd been pregnant, he's have been able to feel, to tell. There's no way Hermione wouldn't have told him. And besides, she didn't look a gram bigger than before summer break. Although, Draco thought, grinning happily, he did rather like the increased of size of her breasts.

"Hermione, why didn't you tell him?" Ginny hissed at the girl next to her, trying not to attract too much attention.

"Because Ginny…because!" Hermione didn't want to explain herself; she thought it should be obvious. "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore first." And with that, Hermione pulled open a compartment door and sat herself down opposite of Harry. Ginny should know that if anyone other than Draco found out she'd be putting not only him but also the baby in great danger. Hermione glared out the window and watched the landscape flying past. Of course no one understood; none of her friends had gone through what she was currently going through.

"Hermione? Hermione!" Harry's voice snapped Hermione out of her reverie, and her gaze softened as she looked upon the boy across from her. "I was asking if you'd finished your Transfiguration essay and would you mind looking over mine?" Harry and Ron had importuned Hermione all summer to help them with their homework, and only now did she defer to their pleas. In any case, she would be saved from talking too much if she was going over their homework.

Grinning slightly, she held out her hand. "And let me borrow your quill while I'm at it." Both Ron and Harry were more than happy to comply.

Having grazed all day during the train ride, Hermione wasn't quite as ravenous as she usually was during the welcoming feast. She sipped some pumpkin juice and nibbled on steamed vegetables as she watched her best friends gorge themselves on the array of foods at their disposal. Being in her final year at Hogwarts seemed to make her the top dog. Not that she had ever much cared about the younger students' opinions of her, but this year she was particularly relieved to be a seventh year.

Hermione waited patiently all throughout the feast, and swore she saw Dumbledore glance in her direction more often than necessary. He must know, Hermione thought glumly. He's brilliant; he knows everything. "Ron, you've just put your elbow in the pudding." Hermione passed the red head a napkin and he grinned at her through a mouthful of strawberry tarts. All too soon dinner was over, and the students were shuffling about, trying to follow the prefects.

"Ms. Granger, a moment if you please." The soft yet strangely acute voice was unmistakable. Hermione waved off the other two and turned around with a great feeling of dread. The crowd seemed to part like the sea for Dumbledore as Hermione followed him to his office. "Bubble gum," the headmaster told the gargoyle who immediately bounded out of the way. Hermione was silent all the way up the stairs and through the door until she sat down in the chair across from Dumbledore.

The old man interlocked his fingers and looked at her over the rim of his half-moon spectacles. Hermione suddenly realized how uncomfortable she was feeling. New feelings seemed to erupt inside her as she stared back into Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes…fear, shame, and guilt even. "Professor, I—do you know, then?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and considered the girl before him very seriously. "Let's just say that a little bird informed me of it this afternoon. Or rather, an old, tired owl," he responded, gesturing over at Fawkes' stand where the Weasleys' owl, Errol, was sleeping. "Now, before we talk, I must tell you Ms. Granger, that you need not tell me everything that has happened. Only how I may help you."

Hermione considered things for a while before speaking up again. "What will I tell the others who ask me why I wear such large clothes?"

"Why, my dear girl, tell them you are bringing back the fashion of my era when one not wearing such large clothing was certainly fashion-impaired."

Hermione smiled in spite of herself. "Sir, also…what will I do when…well, you know. In two months?"

"Ah," Dumbledore contemplated aloud. "That is a question indeed." After a while of considering this, Dumbledore asked her, "You still recall how you made those charming Dumbledore's Army coins, I'm sure?" Hermione nodded. "Wonderful. You are a brilliant girl." Dumbledore opened one of his drawers and took out a several of rings. "Now then, if you would be so kind as to charm these rings the same way you did those coins, whenever you need to reach me or must be excused from whatever it is you are doing, merely activate the ring so that it warms my finger, and I shall be sure to help you."

Hermione did as she was told. "Professor, who are the other rings for?" she asked, indicating the other two rings on the table.

"Why, Molly of course." Dumbledore paused for a fraction of a second before adding, "And Mr. Malfoy, if you decide to tell him."

Hermione nodded. After a moments hesitation, "I don't think I will just yet. But may I keep it, sir, in case I decide to?"

Dumbledore smiled kindly at the girl. "Certainly. Now, I'll make sure this ring gets to Molly, and you make sure you are well rested for tomorrow." Dumbledore nodded at Hermione as she paused by the door to his office.

"Thank you, Professor."

Hermione made her way slowly to the Common Room. In all honesty, she wanted nothing more than to run into Draco's arms and tell him, and indeed she was considering it. Then Hermione felt the weight of the silver ring in her pocket and shook the silly idea out of her head. A step behind her had Hermione pulling out her wand and whipping around to face whoever it was.

"Geez, Hermione, it's only me." Harry stared pointedly at her wand until Hermione stowed the lethal weapon.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I've just been a bit on edge lately," Hermione sighed.

"Well, I was just looking for you so that you'd know the new password."

"Harry, I'm Head Girl; of course I know the password."

"All right," Harry conceded. Hermione waited, knowing full well that Harry would explain himself if she was silent. "It's just that I'm tired of all the talk about Voldemort and all. It seems that's all anyone talks about anymore."

Hermione nodded and glanced at the boy next to her. Harry seemed tired, more so than ever. Hermione wondered briefly if she looked like that herself. "I'll always be here for you, Harry," she told him, grabbing his hand and guiding him along. "You know that I'd never leave you." Hermione had an odd feeling in her chest, as though she'd said something wrong. But she shook her head and continued to walk with Harry. Of course she'd never leave Harry; she just hoped that the baby would be born by the time she had to truly stay at his side. As she neared the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione swore she saw a cloak whip around the corner. "You go on, Harry. I just want to ask Professor Flitwick about one of his spells," Hermione lied.

As Harry disappeared into the portrait, Hermione turned the corner. All at once she was enveloped in such a warm embrace that tears sprang to her eyes. Hermione hugged Draco back fiercely, and didn't even let go when his hold on her slackened. Hermione's senses soon came back to her. She shouldn't even be seeing Draco like this, what if someone caught them. For a moment, Hermione almost let her recklessness take over, before she quickly squelched that feeling. How could she escape from Draco but not seem as though she didn't love him still. "Listen, I need to talk—" Hermione kissing him cut off Draco.

"Draco, I can't right now. I just sent Harry inside, and he and Ron will both be wondering what I'm asking, talking to 'Professor Flitwick' for so long." At Draco's contemptuous look, Hermione gave him another kiss to thwart his argument that she should stay.

But Draco was not to be so easily shrugged off and cornered her against the wall as she attempted to leave. "Yeah, but how often does a chance like this come along?" he murmured. "They both know you like to talk anyway," Draco replied, as he lowered his head towards Hermione. The latter closed her eyes and let herself be captured in this moment. But then she felt again the silver ring weighing down her pocket as though it was some great sin, and she broke away.

At Draco's dismayed look, Hermione gave him another quick kiss. "Later." And Hermione hurried down the hall and turned the corner. By the time Draco had followed her, Hermione had already disappeared through the portrait hole.


	5. The Reason Why

Avoiding Draco had proved much harder than Hermione had reckoned. Not only did he seem to be in all her classes, save Ancient Runes, but Hermione tended to be the last one to class, given her very pregnant state. Hermione knew it wouldn't be too long now, maybe a couple weeks more,and she'd have to find a way to manage her school work, Headgirl duties, NEWTS and a baby.

But the most pressing matter of all was that she had yet to decide whether or not to tell Draco. The small but none-the-less heavy weight of the silver rings Hermione carried around with her were a constant reminder of Draco's absolute ignorance on such a paramount issue. Sighing as the morning post came in, Hermione couln't help but feel a wave of relief at the weekend. No worrying about getting to class on time, about Draco staring at her and realizing she was carrying his heir.

It was a dark brown owl hooting at her that called Hermione out of her reverie, and she untied the letter from his leg. Hermione knew who this bird was, of course. She had ben the one to send him originally after all. The owl dipped his beak into Hermione's pumpkin juice before it have her a sten look and flew off to the owlrey, awaiting her return letter.

_Dear Hermione,___

_Have you eaten enough breakfast? I know how you don't think you need to eat every few hours, but, well, we've been over this a thousand times already. I'm sure you've been doing fine, as the ring has yet to do much other than adorn my finger. Dear, I do hope you know that you can call on me at anytime. Now, I already know that you've yet to tell...him, but Hermione, I must impress upon you again the absolute importance of doing so. Not only will it serve you both better in the long run, but I know that he'll be able to help out. It is very important for children to have both their parents, you know, and I often lament for Harry, never having known the wonderful people Lily and James were.___

_I know that the time is near, it must be. I've arranged things with Albus and St. Mungo's so that you can be very discreetly taken out of school and placed in the ward. Moving around the week prior to the actual event will be most dificult, and I leave it up to you to decide whether or not you'll check in early. I'll be in contact again very soon, dear. Now finish your breakfast.___

_Love,_

_Molly_

Hermione smiled for a moment at the concern of the rather understanding woman. Frowning the next moment, Hermione knew that everything Mrs. Weasley had written was true; she would really have to tell Draco sooner or later. The worry and threat that Death Eaters, or worse, Voldemort would find out lindered, however. Draco was now an outcast from that group of people; having killed his father inadvertantly and spilling secrets to the Order had left Draco in disfavor and his mother in hiding. While Voldemort wasn't full out hunting him, Hermione knew that any excuse,any reason they could get their hand on to make Draco suffer would not be passed up.

Casting her eyes across the room, Hermione wasn't surprised to find she was the only one there. It was far too early to be awake--the sun hadn't even broken the horizon when Hermione found herself laying awake in her bed. She stared at the left side of the Slytherin table, where Draco always sat. She wasn't sure what had made him come around. It was all very tenuous, Hermione contemplated, that at one moment Draco would be smirking and taunting herself and making Harry's life miserable, while the next he would be seen at Order meetings, a haunted look in his eyes and fear in his voice. Having asked him about it later, Hermione always found herself shocked--not so much at the answer itself, but by the fact that Draco had confided to her.

_"You don't know it was like," Draco told her, his voice wavering and his fists clenching. "Seeing him torture some to insanity, abuse others fatally, force them to mutilate themsevles before their own eyes, while they, while we _all_ looked on, unable to offer any help, or even show the slightest glimpse of sympathy or remorse." Draco looked up into Hermione's eyes, desperation and horror swirling around in his grey orbs. "You never saw their faces or heard their cries as they begged for him to kill them. And at last, when he finally obliged, you never saw the vacant look in their eyes, a smile tugging at their lips, glad to have finally escaped the terror he put them through." ___

_Tears were streaming down Draco's face unchecked now. He was no longer sitting in that empty classroom with Hermione; Draco was at Voldemort's side, yet another mask in the endless ring of Death Eaters, initiated or not. He was there in a room watching a helpless wizard, self inflicted cuts and gashes all over his body, begging for death.___

_Hermione reached out to him, cupping his face in her hands, focusing his attention back to the present. "Draco, I'm--I'm so sorry," she choked out, tears catching on her lashes. She extended her arms and pulled him close to her so that Draco was bent forward, his head resting on her shoulder and nose nuzzling into her neck.___

_After a minute of trying to repress his sobs, Draco calmed down enough to go on. "And then he'd turn on us, especially the newer and younger ones. His red eyes would bore into my soul. And he's tell us that if--that if we didn't do as he said, then we'd be the ones writhing on the floor, imploring death." Draco's eyes fastened on Hermione's. The girl looked down into her former enemy's eyes and saw the helplessness, the need for understanding. One of Draco's hands was fiddling with the ends of Hermione's hair, his other wrapped loosely around her waist, gripping the hem of her shirt.___

_Hermione's brow's knit together in heart-wrenching sympathy, and she drew the boy in her arms closer to her. "I'm glad you're here," she whispered to him. "Where you're safe."___

  
After that, they hadn't much talked, though they did acknowledge each other on civil terms. In retrospect, Herione supposed that it was this meeting that had led her to make the decision she had some months later. Because when that unexpected ambush broke out, Hermione had seen the look of utter fear in Draco's eyes, and recalled how he looked that day when he had told her why he turned over a new leaf. Draco wasn't a bad person, he never really was. He was merely...lost. Yes, lost for quite some time.

"Hermione?" She knew that voice, knew those arms that encircled her. Leaning into him, Hermione closed her eyes as she let Draco hold her. "What are you doing up?"

"I was hungry," Hermione replied. Immediately noticing her mistake, she added, "And I couldn't sleep." Draco moved to sit down next to her and spread some jam on her toast. The sun was pouring through the windows now, and Hermione knew that the Great Hall would soon be filling up. "Thanks," she smiled, accepting the piece of toast.

"Er--I better go," Draco commented, standing up. The clatter of feet from the early risers was echoing down the hall.

Hermione grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. "You don't have to," she importuned Draco. "It's not as if the whole school doesn't know that we're friends, or well, something along those lines.

Draco looked down into her face for a moment. He smirked at her. "Just friends, huh?"

Hermione's face flushed and she gave him a reprimanding look, though Draco could easily see the amusement dancing around her eyes. "Oh shut up and eat your breakfast."

"What are you doing today?" Draco inquired, sitting down next to her.

Hermione reached for a blueberry muffin that Draco ended up handing to her. "Homework," she sighed.

"Let's go for a walk," Draco declared on a sudden caprice.

"I--what? No."

"Well, the sun is nice out, it's not too cold today. Hermione, the leaves are still changing colors. I know you love Autumn."

Hermione sighed. Under the normal circumstances she would gladly have gone on a walk with Draco. But at the moment, when she could barely make it to class on time, a long walk just for the hell of it was simply inane. "Draco, I really don't want to." Said boy looked thoroughly displeased, and not the least miffed. "Okay, why don't we walk out to the lake and have our breakfast there?"

"I knew you couldn't resist my charm," Draco smirked. "Never could." He sighed dramatically and Hermione responded by throwing an apple at him. "Really, Hermione, if you're going to throw something at me, I'd really prefer it to be yourself, not a piece of fruit." He just barely caught the pear that was sailing right at him.

Draco carried the food in a basket, courtesy of a muffin basket that Hermione insisted they return later. As soon as the doors closed behind them, leaving behind the twenty some odd people that had risen early, Hermione linked her pinky through Draco's, and brought them to a slow but steady pace towards the lake. Draco was right in telling her about the picturesque scenery outside; every tree was embellished with the warm hues that only Autumn entailed. The air outside was crisp and dead leaves crunched beneath their feet as Draco and Hermione made their way to the far side of the lake, out of view of everyone except the creatures in the Forbidden Forest.

Finally stopping, Draco sat down the basket of food, but pulled Hermione into his embrace. Hermione nuzzled into his chest, and for a moment felt a stab of guilt. Draco was so open with her, so trusting, and yet here she was hiding such a tremendous secret from him. Draco was playing with the ends of her long hair as he always did in a great show of affection. "I wish we didn't have to hide," he remarked bitterly. "They should know how much I love you."

Hermione leaned back against Draco, resting her head on his chest. She reached up and cupped his cheek, her hand shielding it from the biting air. "I know," Hermione sighed, then gave a sharp gasp of pain, her hand slipping from Draco's face to clutch her rib.

"Are you all right? What happened?"

What had happened was that the baby had kicked. That in turn meant that the baby was awake and many more gasps of pain would emit from Hermione. Biting back any further utterances of discomfort, Hermione replied, "Nothing. Something poked me." It wasn't entirely false at least. Draco's face relaxed then, and Hermione took that moment of silence to decide things. It was already early November, but Hermione knew that her due date was well before Christmas break. There was no escaping it--Hermione would have to miss school.

Slightly irked by this knowledge, Hermione commenced eating a mini Pumpkim Pie to appease herself. She may as well check into St. Mungo's next weekend; all that was on her mind anymore was when the baby would arrive anyway. Hermione had contemplated this often and knew what to tell Draco.

"Draco, I'm going to be leaving for a while, to visit my parents." It was only a half-lie; Hermione had been getting rather good at bending the truth over the years. She could do so with just the right amount of emotion to make her story believeable. "I haven't seen them in more than a year." Before Draco could protest, Hermione added, "And before you start with me, think about how you'd feel if your own daughter showed up with some guy you had never seen before and thought she loathed."

Draco smirked cheekily and gave Hermione a swift kiss. "Don't tell me you told your parents that you hated me, Granger. When you know that this whole time you've been secretly and madly in love with me."

Hermione turned to Draco and brought her face within mere centimeters of his, teasing him with an almost kiss. "Well, you see Malfoy, I may have mentioned it. And if I was honestly madly in love with you, I'd be snogging you by now."

Hermione made to pull back, but that had done it; Draco cupped her face and drew Hermione close to him. "You know, it has been a while since I've had a good snog."


	6. St Mungo's Maternity Ward

The week seemed to have passed by faster than Hermione thought, and it seemed far too soon that she was packing her clothes and schoolbooks away in the bag she would be taking to St. Mungo's. Hermione had gotten her exams out of the way and had asked Ginny to go with her to Hogsmeade early, before Mrs. Weasley would pick her up. In all of Hermione's jumbled excitement of getting her schoolwork and exams done in advance, spending some quality time with Harry and Ron, and devoting sufficient time to Draco so that he wouldn't miss her too terribly, she had quite forgotten that when her baby was born, it would be quite naked unless Hermione bought some of the necessities of child-care. Hermione ran a weary hand down her face. At least she'd be able to relax at St. Mungo's.

Hermione had just finished her packing and was brushing her mahogany locks when she heard a knock on the dormitory door. Hastily running the brush through her hair once more, Hermione hurried to the door and opened it. "Hello. I've just finished packing. Are you ready to go?

Ginny smiled at Hermione and offered to carry her bag for her, but was waved off by Hermione merely shrinking her bad and placing it in her pocket. "You've said you goodbyes to everyone then?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, last night." She bit her lip in hesitance before adding. "Look Ginny. Well, Dumbledore gave me these rings that can be used to contact people. Obviously he has one, and your mother has the other. I know Dumbledore wanted me to give one to Draco, but I don't think I'll tell him quite yet." At Ginny's exasperated look, Hermione quickly continued, "But I wanted to give it to you, so that when I'm, having the baby, you'll know and can be there." Hermione pressed the silver ring into Ginny's hand before the redhead could protest any further. "Er—right then. I suppose we ought to go now."

Ginny led the way down the stairs where Harry and Ron were waiting for them. "Well Hermione, er—have fun," Ron told her.

"And don't be gone too long, okay?" Harry added.

Hermione smiled at them both and pulled them into a group hug. "I'll miss you," she said, her voice coming out muffled between them. Hermione pulled back slightly and looked up at her two best friends. "We're together so much that it'll be a bit weird when you won't be asking me to correct your essays or lend you my notes every night." Hermione smiled. "But what I'll miss most of all is our constant disregard of the rules."

Harry and Ron laughed lightly at Hermione's last remark, and gave her one more hug. "Sure you don't want us to walk you down?" Ron offered.

"No, it's all right. I'll be fine with Ginny," Hermione replied. "Besides, don't you have Quidditch practice?"

Harry grinned. "Since when did you ever care that we have Quidditch?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry and gave them both a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you before you know it." This time Hermione led the way out of the Common Room, her heart hurting a little with the knowledge that her best friends weren't going to partake in such a huge event in her life. _It's all for the best_, Hermione told herself. _Because somehow I highly doubt that they'll be too thrilled to find out Draco is the father._ Halfway down the hall, Hermione was accosted again.

"Honestly, Draco, it'll only be a few weeks."

Draco still held her and nuzzled her neck. "But we hardly see each other anyway." The way he said it was almost pitiful, and Hermione felt her heart ache a little more, guilt running through her. She reached upward and cupped Draco's face; it was damp beneath her palms. Hermione showered Draco's face with kisses and then held him close.

"I've got to go now. I'll write you," Hermione said gently. She reached up and drew Draco's face down to hers. "You know I'll always love you." She still felt the thrill of saying it to him, though she was sure she'd said it a million times already.

Draco leaned his forehead on Hermione's and closed his eyes. "I love you too. Always." Draco leaned forward and gave Hermione another kiss, and it took all she had for Hermione not to merely into him just then; to forgo her journey to St. Mungo's and just wander to some cozy couch and lay down by a fire with Draco. It was a chaste kiss at first, surely. Tenderness overshadowed the passion Draco's eyes held, and Hermione was alight with a fire that only Draco could entice. Hermione's arms encircled Draco's neck, and pulled him closer, deepening their kiss. Hermione shivered with the complete and utter satisfaction and happiness she found simply by being with Draco, let alone kissing him.

A bell sounded in the distance, and Hermione took this as her cue to rather reluctantly, and with a grand fight on Draco's part, pull back form the man she loved so deeply. Her hair was tousled where Draco's hands had been running through them, and she was only a little bit surprised to find herself backed against the wall. Draco trailed little kisses down her neck, and Hermione squirmed with pleasure.

"Draco," she said breathlessly, "Draco, I have to go now."

Draco planted one last kiss on her forehead and held her for a moment. "I love you. I love you."

Hermione reached up and kissed Draco one last time, softly, and almost with a strange finality. "I love you too, with all my heart. I love you." Hermione glanced around at Ginny to find the girl respectfully a good twenty feet away, on the lookout for passerby. Hermione gazed into Draco's face once more, taking in his pointed but strong jaw, the stands of hair that fell across his eyes, and finally into those warm gray ones as well. She took her time memorizing them. They were a light shade of gray, and they had many light blue flecks in them. _I hope the baby will have his eyes,_ Hermione thought to herself. She smiled at Draco once more, squeezed his hand, and quickly turned away to hide the tears that were gathering in her eyes.

Hermione felt her hair slip through his fingers, and looked back, only once, to see him standing there, staring at her. His face was clouded with melancholy, conflicted between love and tenderness and sadness and resignation. Hermione shot him one last smile, just before she slipped through the castle door with Ginny. But it was a wet smile.

"Ginny, do you have any idea where we can even find baby clothes and toys in Hogsmeade?" Hermione wondered as they entered the town of Hogsmeade.

Ginny contemplated for a moment. Shaking her head, she replied, "Well, I suppose we could try some of the outfitters. But don't worry. I'm sure Mum will have brought loads of things for the baby anyway."

Hermione smiled slightly. She loved Molly Weasley very dearly, and thanks to the woman's encouraging words, she was excited as opposed to resentful at the child growing within her. "Oh, by the way, Ginny," Hermione started, swallowing and flushing a nice red. "Thanks for always, well, that is…you know, when me and Draco are, er…"

Ginny caught on quickly enough and went a trademark Weasley red. "Oh, yes. Not at all." She grinned cheekily. "Though now I can say I expect the same from you, whenever it comes down to it."

Hermione laughed lightly. "Well, it's only fair." Enraptured as they were in their small talk, neither girl noticed the dark cloaked figure that had been watching them for some time now.

"Here, we can try a look in here," Ginny stated, stopping before one of the few clothing stores in Hogsmeade. She held the door open for Hermione and followed the brunette inside.

There wasn't much in the store in the way of babies, but there was a nice selection of stuffed animals near the back. Hermione and Ginny carefully looked over the selection and exclaimed over the various stuffed animals there. Pushing away a rather obnoxious and frilly pink poodle, Hermione stopped when she spotted a black dog with shaggy hair. She picked it up and felt the soft fur and looked into the glassy grey eyes of the canine.

Ginny stopped her cooing over a baby rabbit and instead looked at the stuffed animal Hermione was holding gingerly. "That looks like…"

"Sirius," Hermione finished quietly. She hugged the dog close to her and tears came unbidden to her eyes. She didn't say another word, but brought the little stuffed animal up to the counter where a kindly old wizard rung him up.

He seemed to have sensed that this particular stuffed dog meant something to his custom and asked kindly, "Do you have a name for him?"

Hermione was shocked out of her reverie, and looked up from the black dog in the shopkeeper's hands to the kindly wizards crinkled old eyes. She nodded, and said rather quietly, "Sirius."

"A fine name indeed." The wizard bent down to rummage in one of the boxes under his desk and pulled out a dark blue collar with a metal plate on it. On said metal plate, the wizard used his wand to engrave _Sirius_ on it, and then shrunk the collar to fit the dog. He slipped it on over the dog's head and handed it to Hermione, who smiled up at him.

"Thank you so much," Hermione told him.

"Of course," the wizard replied, and he escorted the two girls to the door.

"Well, we don't have any clothes, but at least I have something for the baby," Hermione sighed, gently stroking the stuffed dog she held in her arms.  
"I doubt that we'll find anything. Would you just like to go get a Butterbeer?" Ginny offered.

"Yes. That sounds delightful." Hermione linked arms with the girl who had helped her so much and headed toward The Three Broomsticks. A slight movement in the shadows caused Hermione to pause and glance back for a moment, but she shook her head as having imagined it and carried on. After all, it would be some time before she would have another Butterbeer.

It was a quarter past noon when Albus Dumbledore found the two Gryffindor girls finishing off their second Butterbeer. "Miss Granger, Miss Weasley," he greeted amiably. "Why hello Rosmerta," he waved to the attractive young woman in greeting.

"Hello Albus." Rosmerta glanced at the two girls sitting at her table. "I do hope these young girls aren't in trouble now?" she queried.

"Oh, not at all. I just came to collect them," Dumbledore responded, his eyes twinkling good-naturedly. "Though I don't suppose it would do much harm to enjoy one last round of Butterbeers, do you?" The last part was directed at the two girls, who grinned their assent.

"Wonderful. They're on the house," Madam Rosmerta declared, hurrying away to fetch some more Butterbeers.

"I like your little friend," Dumbledore observed, noting the black dog Hermione had set on the table next to her. "Sirius, I presume?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione confirmed. She smiled slightly at the complete perceptiveness of the wise old man before her.

"Molly will be here soon. You'll be taking the train back, as I'm afraid flooing or apparating might be a bit, ah, traumatizing."

Hermione nodded appreciatively. "I'm glad to know. I was a bit worried about that."

"I wish I could join you," Madam Rosmerta said, having returned with three bottles that she handed out. "But the lunch hour rush is about to arrive, and I'm afraid I'll have no time," she finished, smiling apologetically.

"Quite all right," Dumbledore said mildly, holding his bottle up in a salute to the woman. The woman soon hurried away to take the orders of the new customers filing in, inundating the place.

The next twenty minutes Dumbledore entertained Hermione and Ginny with odd little anecdotes of his, and by the time the three of them left at half past noon, Hermione had somewhat forgotten the sadness of leaving behind Draco, Harry and Ron.

Not thirty seconds after the Headmaster and his two pupils arrived on the platform did Molly Weasley apparate into sight. "Ginny dear!" she exclaimed, somewhat surprised at seeing her youngest child there. She drew her into a hug and plated a kiss on both of her daughter's cheeks.

"Hello, Mum," Ginny grinned, hugging her mother back.

"Why, Hermione!" Molly exclaimed, staring at the girl before her. Hermione had quite grown in size, and Mrs. Weasley was exceptionally glad that the brunette had decided to check into St. Mungo's early. She leaned forward, mindful of Hermione's protruding stomach, and hugged and kissed her. "Well," Molly said, leaning back and examining Hermione at arms length. "You look simply radiant."

Hermione smiled shyly at Molly, glad of the compliments. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

Mrs. Weasley turned next to Dumbledore and accosted him as well. "Hello, Albus. It was quite nice of you to bring them down here," she thanked.

"On the contrary," Albus responded, "They had come quite early, and I merely met up with them."

The sound of the train's whistle stopped any more conversation, and Mrs. Weasley quickly hugger Ginny again and said farewell to Albus. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon," Molly called through the window of the compartment she and Hermione were occupying.

"Now dear, why on earth had you come to Hogsmeade so early?" Mrs. Weasley asked the girl sitting opposite of her.

Hermione blushed and shifted on her seat. "Well, I had completely forgotten to buy any clothes for the baby, and so me and Ginny went shopping for some," she explained. "Unfortunately, all we ended up buying was this stuffed dog instead," she continued, waving her hand in the direction of the dog sitting next to her.

Molly's face broke into a soft smile. "Dear, you should have known that I would do that for you." Here Molly pulled out a large package. Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as she took the package from Molly and opened it up to find numerous outfits. "Now, they're just old baby clothes, but I do suppose they're better than nothing."

Hermione wiped a tear that had escaped and hugged the woman in front of her. "Thank you so much," she whispered. Molly was pleased.

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley spent the majority of the train ride searching through the old baby clothes, and Hermione was grateful of the wide variety. She could easily change the colors to match with her baby's gender with just a flick of her wand. Hermione held up a particularly elegant little dress of white with pink trim. "Oh, if I have a girl, this would look lovely on her," Hermione sighed, her mind wandering for a moment.

Molly just smiled at Hermione over her knitting. She was busy making a blanket for the soon to be born, and was content to just hear Hermione ponder what the next few weeks would hold in store, recalling when she herself was pregnant for the first time with Bill. She had been just as excited as Hermione now was, and had gone slightly overboard with trying to make sure her baby would have everything it needed. Mrs. Weasley had never had the heart to give away her children's old things, and was glad to present them to Hermione, who would be in far more need of a crib than herself. Glancing at her watch, Molly informed, "It's nearly time. We should be arriving any moment."

And true to her words, the train slowed down several minutes later. Molly helped Hermione gather all her things and helped the girl out of the train before leading her along the somewhat crowded street to the forevermore-closed store that was the secret entrance to St. Mungo's. Upon reaching Purge and Dowse Ltd., Mrs. Weasley cast a quick glance around to make sure the Muggles weren't paying too close attention. She turned her attention to the mannequin in the store window and said barely loud enough for Hermione to hear, "We're here to check in Hermione Granger."

The mannequin gave an imperceptible nod and Mrs. Weasley grabbed Hermione's hand and stepped them through the glass. They walked into a brightly lit room where Hermione could see the Healers in their lime green robes hurrying about. Mrs. Weasley cast a nervous glance around and was pacified to see they were the only ones there at the time. Walking them up to the Welcome Witch, Mrs. Weasley said in a low voice, "We're here to check in Hermione Granger."

"Oh, yes. They've set her room up on the fifth floor, third door to the left. If you've reached the tea, you've gone too far," the Welcome Witch said in a kindly tone, giving Hermione a small smile.

"Thank you. Come on dear," Mrs. Weasley said, leading the way. "Now, I know they've got a lift here somewhere…Ah yes, here it is." Molly held the lift door open for Hermione and followed the girl inside. "Fifth floor," Molly instructed.

With a sudden jerk, the lift began moving up through the floors until it finally stopped at the correct floor. Hermione followed Mrs. Weasley out and to the third door on their left, where she gasped in surprise. In her room was a rather large bookcase full of many different titled books ranging from Charms to children's tales. Her bed was opposite the bookcase and adjacent to a window, where bright sunshine poured in. On the far side of the room was a glass door that could be slid open to allow Hermione access to a room enchanted to look like a garden of seasonal flowers and trees.

"Oh, Mrs. Weasley, this is wonderful," Hermione breathed.

Mrs. Weasley was mollified. "I was hoping you'd like it."

"But Mrs. Weasley, won't this be rather expensive?" Hermione inquired uneasily.

But Molly simply waved it away, informing Hermione, "Albus has taken care of it, you needn't worry."

Hermione knew there was no point in arguing and so simply nodded her head and wandered to the garden outside. It was vibrant with golden and red hues, a deep purple and blue flower here and there, and the remnants of a few deep greens disseminated scarcely throughout. "I can definitely get used to this," Hermione said, leaning over to pick up soft blue pansy. Holding the little flower delicately in her hand, she smiled. "Definitely."

One week faded into another as Hermione spent most of her hours idly studying her books in a soft chair in her garden. She was expecting the baby any moment now, and was quite nervous. Mrs. Weasley visited often and regaled her with child-raising advice and this somewhat appeased Hermione's nerves.

It was early morning, the sun was rising over the garden, and Hermione fully appreciated the magical enchantment on her room. She knew that in a few short hours Mrs. Weasley would be walking through her door with a bowl of potato soup, some warm Pumpkin Pasties and a bag of lemon ginger tea. The woman spoiled her, honestly.

Hermione sighed and set her book aside. Instead of swishing her wand to practice her spell, she used it to summon a flower to her, an autumn lily. Hermione admired the flower for a while before she set it in a vase full of a variety of other flowers she had summoned to herself that day. She'd written Draco the other day, and though she knew she shouldn't expect an answer back, she couldn't help but hope.

Hermione seemed almost ready for anything as she stood up and stretched her arms above her head, taking another sweeping look around the garden and admiring the pink and gold hues that the sunrise cast about the place. She would be ready to take care of her child, ready to finish her schoolwork, ready to finally tell Draco. However, the one thing Hermione _wasn't _ready for was the sudden sound like a cork being popped off a champagne bottle and the gush of water that emitted from her. Indeed, the one thing Hermione seemed completely unprepared for was her water breaking.


	7. Photograph

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!" Hermione panicked. Fear clutched her heart for a moment as she stared on, now only feeling a little trickle of water down her leg. Then reality set in and Hermione quickly calmed down. She'd read about this after all. She felt a sudden sharp pain in her lower abdomen as if a giant hand was squeezing her. As soon as the blinding pain had come, it was over and Hermione grabbed the chair for support. She felt slightly dizzy and shook her head to clear it.

Hermione grabbed her wand from the table next to her vase of flowers and tapped the ring she was wearing. For a moment the shiny silver merely twinkled back at her, but then it grew red hot and Hermione cursed, imagining Ginny doing the same somewhere inside Hogwarts. She gave the ring a resentful look before she hobbled to her bed and lay down. As she wondered idly how long it would be before her next contraction, she heard running footsteps approaching her door.

"Hermione!" Mrs. Weasley cried, running to said girl's bedside. She was clutching a large bag and looked rather nervous herself. "Did you have your first contraction yet?" Molly certainly went straight to the point.

"Yes, just about three minutes ago," Hermione informed Mrs. Weasley.

"Yes, good. Well, where on earth is he?"

"Where is who, Mrs. Weasley?" Hermione inquired, a fleeting panic that Molly had told Draco visiting her.

"Why Albus of course, dear."

Hermione paled. This was not what she had been expecting. "Y-you mean to say that he's going to…to be here?" she asked faintly.

Molly frowned, as if annoyed by Hermione's sudden lack of sensibility. "Well of course, dear. Why wouldn't he be? Albus was the one that signed as your guardian after all." Muttering about how the place was a mess, Mrs. Weasley began to magic books up to their proper places on their respective shelves, and clean up the puddle of water still trailing to the bed, completely oblivious of the shock written all over Hermione's face.

_Dumbledore signed as my guardian?_ she thought dazedly. All at once Hermione was touched and yet slightly embarrassed at this fact; not to mention the stirrings of unworthiness that seemed to be rising up in her. "Is this yours dear?" Mrs. Weasley called, holding up the black stuffed dog.

"Yes," Hermione called weakly, and Molly sent the plushie soaring through the air into Hermione's outstretched arms. She snuggled into the fluffy animal, the experience bringing her back to her childhood. Yes, a childhood of fairly normal existence, despite the few odd instances of unleashed magic. Indeed, this little cuddly toy seemed to be her only tie to normalcy; after having spent hours in retrospect, Hermione found that her life seemed to have spun wildly out of control. How had she gone from simply trying to make friends in her first year to fighting a horde of Death Eaters in her fifth year? From absolutely loathing Draco to finding herself incomprehensibly in love with him? Surely this was all just some mad dream she had fallen into as she was studying Arithmancy.

But no, Hermione grimaced, clenching her teeth in pain as she contracted once again. This couldn't be a dream, because surely dreams couldn't hurt this much.

As the pain of her third contraction receded some twenty minutes later, a quick knock on her door brought Hermione's attention away from crushing poor Mrs. Weasley's hand.

Albus Dumbledore let himself into the room, followed by Ginny. "Hermione!" the latter cried, slight panic in her voice and her face set with anxiety.

"So sorry about the delay, Ms. Granger. But I'm sure you know that Professor Snape rather dislikes having his students taken away from his class," the Headmaster informed, his eyes twinkling good naturedly. "It was really all I could do to take Ginny away before her second hour began."

"Hermione, you gave me such a fright! I was sitting there chopping up my caterpillar when this ring starts burning and I nearly chop my finger off," Ginny ranted, all a bundle of nerves.

"Yes, well, lets give Hermione some room" Mrs. Weasley said somewhat crossly. "I'll just make some tea then," she added as Dumbledore conjured a sofa and two extra armchairs. Pulling up a little wooden chair next to Hermione, he fixed her with an expectant stare, fingers interlaced patiently.

Hermione sighed, knowing without even being told what the wizened old man was on about. "I know Headmaster. And yes, I have been thinking it over—quite a few more times than necessary I'm sure." Here Hermione hesitated, glancing down at her stomach before looking back up into Dumbledore's eyes, searching them for any trace of disappointment before continuing. "But I've decided that maybe it'll be best to just not tell him. After all, it would only serve to add more burdens on him, and add to the list of reasons why he ought to be hunted down."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and stared at the woman before him for a few moments. Albus' eyes took on a look as of one concentrating very hard on a certain problem that has been bothering one for a while. With a slight nod of his head, Dumbledore have her a small smile. "Well, Hermione, I can certainly understand. But remember, the option of telling him is always there, should you feel the need."

Hermione nodded her understanding. She smiled faintly as an image of Draco playing with and fussing over their child came unbidden into her mind. She imagined the child with brown hair like hers, and brown eyes; they were dominant alleles after all. But the daydream shattered as she looked ahead and saw a scene not unlike the death of Lily and James, except with Draco and herself in their position. Hermione clenched her teeth and thought savagely, _I'll never let that happen._

Hermione contracted again and felt a few tears of pain escape her as the poor girl whimpered her discomfort. Mrs. Weasley rushed over and smoothed out Hermione's hair and fussed over her a bit. "And it's not even the worst part," Molly sighed. "Now where on Earth are those Healers? She's due any minute."

In seeming response to Mrs. Weasley's concern, a team of three Healers in lime green robes entered the room. They were all women and friendly looking. Upon scrutinizing them, Hermione determined that one of the Healers seemed vaguely familiar, but waved it off as having seen her here when she had come to St. Mungo's previously as her contractions started to come closer together. She broke out in a sweat from the effort she was exerting in an attempt to obey the head Healer's orders when to breathe and when to push.

"That's it, dear, just keep pushing," came Mrs. Weasley's soothing voice as she gripped Hermione's hand. Albus was busy walking about the place and transforming various objects into baby toys and such objects while Ginny kept pacing up and down the same four feet at the head of Hermione's bed. Clearly both the Headmaster and the redhead weren't sure how to deal with their nervousness.

Just as Mrs. Weasley turned about to snap at the other two to sit down or else leave the room, Hermione's cry was coupled with another one. The young woman lay panting on the bed as the healers went about cleaning up the baby and taking it's measurements.

Mrs. Weasley was all tears and kisses and was sure to cover Hermione's face with both. Ginny went and hugged her friend, all a loss of what to say. It was Dumbledore, however, who glided over to the new mother and smiled gently at her. He bent over and placed the little bundle in Hermione's outstretched arms.  
Hermione stared down into the sleeping face of her child, commiting every little detail to memory. Brown hair, just as Hermione thought. She couldn't tell about the eyes, though; her child was sleeping peacefully in her arms. "Is it a boy or girl?" Hermione asked softly, not taking her eyes off her child. But then Ginny slumped down beside her and Hermione snapped her head up, her right arm reaching over to grasp her wand.

Standing before her was the Healer she thought she recognized earlier, wand pointed straight at Dumbledore. Hermione stared wildly at the woman for a minute before it hit her; Alecto Carrow. Hermione recalled seeing her and her brother in the Daily Prophet as known murderers and Voldemort's faithful supporters. But before either Hermione or Alecto could react, Dumbledore tightly bound the Death Eater with thin, silver ropes. He strode over to her and stared into Alecto's eyes as she struggled to look away. Legilimency, Hermione thought automatically. With a sharp look around, Dumbledore raised his wand again. "_Obliviate."_

"Albus what—"

"We need to place Hermione into hiding, Molly." At Hermione's imploring look, Dumbledore gave a terse explanation. "As for now only the Carros know that Hermione has a child. Apparently Amycus shadowed Hermione and Ginny while they were in Hogsmeade and told his sister. Fortunately no one yet knows who the father is. But time is of the essence. Amycus will arrive any moment now and you three must be gone. I will deal with him and his sister. Now Molly—"

"Yes. Aunt Muriel has more than enough room and she's been under the Fidelius charm for some time now. Hermione dear, I do hate to do this, but Albus is right. You must go for now, at least until this ordeal is dealt with."

Hermione glanced over at Ginny who was being revived by Dumbledore, and tears rushed to her eyes. This was all so unfair! She couldn't be with Draco, she couldn't tell him about their child, and she couldn't even have five moment's peace with her newborn without it being marred by the threat of death. The tears now turned to angry ones, and Hermione did the best she could to keep her face from contorting with rage. She looked down at the baby sleeping peacefully in her arms, as of yet unmarred by any of the cruelties of life. What about school? What about helping Harry in his search for the Horcruxes? Why did everything have to go so wrong? Hermione gently kissed her child, a few teardrops betraying her and splashing onto her child's face.

"I—" Hermione began, her voice cracking. She cleared it before she attempted speaking again. "I understand. Let's go." Hermione grabbed the stuffed dog and gripped her wand tightly. She shot a scathing look at Alecto who was still unconscious on the floor, mustering all the hate and resentment she could feel into that one look. A soft melodious note resounded throughout the air, and Hermione felt her rancor melt away. Within a moment a scarlet bird glided into the room and landed softly on Dumbledore's arm. He whispered to it gently and then turned to the three women.

"Fawkes will take you there, as it seems rather unfit to traumatize a newborn with Apparition," Dumbledore informed them. "Now, quickly." And he hastened towards them with purposeful steps, and every soft pad the Headmaster's feet made resounded through Hermione as though it were the knell of despair. Hermione struggled up from the bed, an amazing feat for her, as the exhaustion of giving birth was still fresh upon her. She clung onto Ginny for support as Mrs. Weasley clutched her daughter's hand, and with a final look at Dumbledore, Molly grabbed the Phoenix's tail and, in a flash of fire, they were gone.

"What do you mean she's in hiding now?" Ron roared, his contempt for the Headmaster clearly written on his face.

Dumbledore merely held up a hand to quite the enraged man before him. "Yes, Mr. Weasley, just as I said. All that I can tell you is that as of right now Ms. Granger is in terrible danger, and the only way to keep her safe is to have her hidden."

"Well, aren't you at least going to tell us where she is?" Ron demanded, his face scarlet from the emotions he was trying to suppress in an attempt to keep his tone respectful.

But Harry grabbed Ron's arm and forced him to sit down. "Listen, Ron. Maybe it's better that we don't know." At Ron's incredulous look, Harry went on, "Well, listen mate, any number of things could go wrong. What if one of us accidentally told one of the Death Eaters something, some bit of information that might lead to them going after not only Hermione but someone else close to us?" Ron still looked mutinous, so Harry grit out, "Pettigrew, remember."

At the mention of the name, Ron immediately slumped down in his chair, defeated. He looked wearily from Dumbledore to Harry and asked, "And what about the hunt for the Horcruxes?"

"Listen, Ron, about that—"

"Oh, no Harry. We've been through this a million times. Just 'cause Hermione isn't going to be with us, doesn't mean I won't be there. We're best mates, and there is no way I would leave you, not now."

"Ron, it's dangerous—"

"And being part of a blood traitor family isn't? It's already a known fact that I'm your best friend, I doubt I would be any worse off if I was there to help you out," Ron interrupted.

Harry hesitated. He knew it was true, of course; he would love to have Ron accompany him and help him out, not to mention he would be in dire need of encouraging company. At last the raven-haired boy sighed and nodded his head. He gave Ron a weak smile unable to tell him in words just how much he appreciated redhead's friendship.

There was knock at Dumbledore's door and the Headmaster called for the person to enter. "Oh, sorry, I'll come back later then," Draco said quickly, spotting Harry and Ron in the office.

"Not at all. We have just finished up. Harry, Ron," Dumbledore said pleasantly. The three boys passed by each other with imperceptible nods of acknowledgement. Dumbledore sighed heavily as Draco sat down, knowing he was in for quite the storm. And indeed he was correct.

"What? Where? Since when? Can I visit her? Where is she? Answer me!" Draco's torrent went on for a full two minutes before Dumbledore could get the pale boy to calm down.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Malfoy, but I simply cannot tell you where she is."

"You don't understand, though! I need to see her—I love her!" Draco burst out, and immediately shrank back, shocked at his blatant confession.

Dumbledore sighed wearily and ran a hand down his face, his lines and age more prominent now than ever before. "Yes, I know," he answered quietly.

"You don't understa—what?" Draco asked, caught off guard by the Headmaster's response.

"I know very well, Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger has told me so on many occasions herself," Dumbledore reiterated, staring sadly at the boy before him.

Draco fell back into the chair across from the Headmaster, trying to absorb everything. So Hermione had told Dumbledore. Had she told Potter and Weasley as well? Draco knew full well that Ginny knew, but doubted that she would tell anyone. To think, he wouldn't see Hermione for Merlin knows how long. Draco brought a hand to his forehead, dread and hopelessness filling him. How long would it be till he saw her face again? If only he had…

"Mr. Malfoy? Draco?" Dumbledore's voice broke through the Slytherin's thoughts, soft and sorrowful. He was holding something out to Draco, a rectangular something.

Draco took it in his hands and felt his heart swell. Wild mahogany hair and warm chocolate eyes stared back at him. A photograph. Draco looked back up at his Headmaster, not caring about the tears swimming in his eyes. He searched those shiny blue eyes for any emotion of disgust, disbelief, disapprobation, but only saw sadness and understanding reflected back at him. Hastily wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Draco carefully placed the photograph of Hermione in his robe's pocket and cleared his throat. "Do you know when I will see her again?"

Those three words. Those three words that Draco had hoped against all hope not to hear. Those three words that resounded despairing times and an eternity of painful hoping only to be let down. "I don't know."


	8. Ephemerality

The sound of a twig cracking resounded outside the tent in the cold, silent night, causing the two men to immediately stop and strain their ears. With rehearsed movements they crowded together under one clock and inched towards the flap of the tent together where they waited with bated breath, wands raised and pointed to the entrance. There was a sound of scuffling, cautious steps and fumbling around. Some cursing and then, "Harry? Ron?" Hopeful, scared…and strangely familiar. A few moments went by and the voice called out again, "Are you there?" It was full of desperation and longing. And it was so familiar…whey was it so familiar? "Oh for goodness—_Homenum revelio._" For a moment nothing happened, but then a light shone from both of the men who were quite started. There was a sharp intake of breath from just outside, and that's when everything clicked into place.

"Who was my first kiss?" Harry asked.

"Cho Chang," was the reply.

"And the name of my owl?" came Ron's voice.

"Pigwidgeon."  
The two men looked at each other and thought for a moment. One more question—just to be sure. "What is Ginny's nickname for Fleur?"

"Phlegm."

There was a moment of silence and then Harry waved his wand and the protective spells were gone. Slowly, cautiously, the flap of the tent opened, and the stranger stepped in. Long mahogany hair, weight pulling it into waves, as it crawled down her back and reached her hip. A pair of chocolate eyes that were anxious but still bright and very alert. But still, they couldn't be sure.

Wands still pointed at her, Harry and Ron pulled off the cloak and proceeded to interrogate the woman before them. Birthdays, favorite foods, favorite classes, family history, but it was finally her knowledge of muggle devices that convinced the two men, and they sank together onto their couch with pale and weary faces, blatantly shocked.

"I—" the woman started and then burst into tears. She fell to the ground before Harry and Ron, sobbing uncontrollably. They pet her hair and massaged her back, and when this failed to quiet her, they pulled the woman onto the couch in between them so that she was soaking Harry's shirt. "Four—four years. It's been four years," she gasped out. "Did you replace the protective spells?" Without even waiting for an answer, the woman waved her wand and muttered incantations.

"Bloody brilliant as ever, Hermione." The sheer use of her name was more than she could bear and so the red-haired man was enveloped in such a hug and his face inundated with kisses, before Hermione turned to the raven-haired man and did the same.

It was quite a few minutes more of crying and embracing before Hermione had calmed down enough to talk. The men wiped their faces as well, though they were long since past being ashamed of crying around others. Hermione sat there in between her two best friends, grasping their hands tightly as if afraid they might disappear should she let go again. "I waited just as long as I could bear. It had been four years—four years of wondering, hoping, nervous breakdowns and only three visitors the entire time. But then, I thought, _four years_. Surely they'd think I was long gone by now. And so I left the house, just like that. And I went to the Burrow, only to find it wasn't there. It wasn't until your mum came running out of the house that I'd even realized it was under the Fidelius charm." Hermione paused again, looking at each of the men next to her, taking in the changed. Weary, tired, desperate. Much like everyone else. Hermione cupped Ron's face, almost surprised that he didn't just fade away.

"She didn't want to tell me of course. Had to force it out of her. But I couldn't stand it one minute longer. I had to leave." Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. "I had to help you, find you. Make sure you were alive. They said it'd been at least six months since they had heard anything of you. So I sat and thought hard. 'If I was Harry and Ron,' I debates, 'where would I go?' Naturally I thought of Hogwarts, but that would be too obvious. So I researched. And then," here Hermione waved a hand, gesturing around the tent, before placing it back in Harry's again, "what do you know? After three weeks of searching, I end up in Albania."

"I'm surprised you're all in one piece. How exactly did you her here?" Harry inquired.

"Various ways. In some cases I Apparated, other times I flooed. I even managed to fly for a bit," Hermione smiled. I'd done a lot of research in those four years, and I think I've figured out where everything and _what_ everything is. When Dumbledore—" Hermione's voice caught, and she took a moment to calm down. "He left me some things, several books and such. And so, I was wondering just how many Horcruxes you've found?"

"The locket, Hufflepuff's goblet, and now we're working on Ravenclaw's diadem. Nagini is rather hard to get to," Harry informed.

"Don't happen to have any brilliant plans, do you Hermione?" Ron asked jokingly, yet with that old hope that just maybe she did.

Hermione smiled at her best friends, and in a hushed voice, "I think I do." Hermione searched her bag as she continued, "Neither of you have been in Ravenclaw's tower, so I figured you wouldn't know what it looked like. "Here Hermione pulled out a page that seemed to have been torn from a book. "Ravenclaw's diadem."

Harry and Ron leaned forward to get a better view of the headwear. "It seems…well, rather familiar," Harry mused aloud.

"Well that's great and all, Hermione, but we still have no clue where it is," Ron sighed exasperatedly.

"Ronald, think," Hermione chided. "If you were a student, still in school at Hogwarts, or merely visiting it, where would you go to find such and area that would fit your exact needs, and better yet, be secretive?" The two men stared at her, neither one seemingly able to come up with an answer. "Think! Remember Dumbledore's Army?"

"Hermione, you must be nutters. What on Earth does the D.A.—"

"The Room of Requirements!" Harry burst out in sudden joy. This was it, they knew exactly where to look. And suddenly Harry recalled why the diadem had seemed so familiar; because he had seen an old, discolored diadem precisely like that in his sixth year.

"Precisely!" Hermione declared, standing up. She stretched her arms above her and yawned loudly. "But first, and don't argue this time, we _all_ need a good night's sleep." Hermione performed some complicated spells and then turned back to the men still sitting on the couch. "And now we are completely unplottable, untraceable and out presences are completely concealed. I promise you, no one will find us tonight."  
Ron stood up, strode to Hermione and lifted her in his arms, twirling her around. Then Harry proceeded to do the same. "The bed won't fit more than two," Ron observed. "I can sleep on the couch."

"Nonsense, Ron. It's a simple matter to just enlarge the bed." And Hermione smiled as her handiwork allowed the bed and blankets stretch to accommodate a third person. Hermione turned to her bad again and pulled out a spare pillow, another blanket, and two bundles, which she handed to Harry and Ron respectively. "Clean, new clothes," Hermione responded to their questioning looks. "After four years, I'm sure you'll need them," she laughed.

And that night, as the three best friends lay together on the firm mattress, Hermione cuddled between both Harry and Ron as she held their hands, all three a pile of pillows and blankets, they smiled peacefully and fell asleep as one, each feeling eleven again, and that, for one night at least, they had not a care in the worlds.

"Hermione, remind me again _how_ exactly we're going to get inside Hogwarts, let alone pass off as students?" Ron asked skeptically.

It was early morning, the sun had broken the horizon only an hour ago, and the three friends were gathered around the small table in the center of the tent where Hermione had managed to make a meal of bread, jam, scrambled and tea. Hermione sighed, disregarding the fact that she now was bereft of any more food, as the two males helped themselves to their first decent meal in months.

"Listen, Snape doesn't know all of the secret passages. It's a weekend, right? And it's June. You know that we had Hogsmeade trips every weekend after our end of the year exams. Obviously we can't use the Shrieking Shack entrance—what good would It do to burst in through the front doors? And besides, Snape knows that passage. We'll go through Honeydukes; that was we're already in the castle, and there is less chance of us being caught."

"But what about our appearances? I doubt that even _you_ carry around ready made Polyjuice Potion," Harry asked.

Hermione smiled at the boys before her. "What do you think I've been doing for four years, playing Quidditch?" She waved off Harry and Ron. "I've got that part down. Now, would you two please finish up? Not even the face of grave danger can squelch your appetites—haven't changed a bit, honestly." But Hermione's eyes shone with affection, and her wide smile betrayed her love for the two men sitting across from her.

"You better eat something too, Hermione. You'll need your energy," Ron recommended.

Taking a sip of tea, Hermione grimaced, feeling queasy already and the thought of food hardly helped. But she knew Ron was right—how many times had she told both of them as much? Resignedly, Hermione picked up a piece of bread, spread some jam on it, and tried to savor the flavors. After all, who knew when she would taste bread, jam, even tea again?

It was easier than they had thought. By mid-morning Harry, Ron and Hermione stole into Hogsmeade, not looking a thing like themselves. Ron was short and stocky with choppy brown hair, a clean-shaven face, and not the slightest hint of a freckle on his pale face. Hermione had changed into a dirty blond with perfectly straight hair and an appealing splatter of freckles on her porcelain skin. A heart shaped face and a little button nose, and Hermione was unrecognizable.

Harry had been a bit trickier. He looked awful as a redhead, worse as a blond, so at last they decided on cropped, light brown hair. However, when Hermione attempted to transfigure the lightening bolt scar away, it absolutely refused to disappear. In exasperation, Hermione grew out Harry's hair again and made it a long, side sweeping mass, thick enough to cover the disfigurement on his face.

"And your eyes too, Harry. You still look quite a lot like yourself." Brown of course. It was best to make him as nondescript as possible, after all. "Right then, are you ready? Hermione inquired.

"As I'll ever be," was the man's response. Hermione grabbed Harry's hand with her left, and Ron's with her right, and after an uncomfortable few moments, they were landing in the trees on the outskirts of Hogsmeade.

"Nearly noon now," Ron said, glancing at his watch. "Should be plenty of kids at Honeydukes by this time."

Harry led the way, stealing between the students, some taking notice and others too excited to care. Really, Ron had commented, it was a miracle the students were allowed out at all, what with Death Eaters running Hogwarts and all.

And then they were in the shop, Ron buying a few chocolates to distract the owner before slipping in himself. The passage was just as long and tedious as it had always been, and Hermione merely smiled at the boys' complaining about how small and cramped the secret tunnel was now. "_Lumos._ I solemnly swear I am up to no good." Silence, and then, "It seems pretty clear."

Harry clambered out first, then Hermione, and finally Ron. Their old school robes had shrunk, it seemed, but of course this was easily remedied. There was silence between them all—each adult lost in their own past memories, relishing the feel of being in Hogwarts again. Harry glanced at the map once again. "We're fine, but let's hurry."

It was a long walk, longer than any of them could have imagined. There was Flitwick, who looked haunted and thin, McGonagall who appeared sterner and more anxious than ever before; and yet no one recognized them. Yet with every step that brought them closer to the Room of Requirements, their hearts beat just a little faster, and a shadow seemed to throw their spirits into a dimmer mood. The walls were bare now, the suits of armor dirty, and Harry was forcibly reminded of the graveyard that had brought about the rebirth of Voldemort. The grey walls, stone statues and the utter quiet cast an impending pall on the once lively castle.

And they were there at last, and Harry was walking back and forth, and on his third pace, a black line appeared, and it twisted and grew into a complex web of intricate design. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, and they nodded their heads. Yes, they were ready for this. Harry pushed open the door and the trio walked into a cathedral sized room. It was piled high with mountains of junk—some of it worth a fortune, no doubt, and some of it merely kept for sentimental reasons. "Right. Look for a bust of an old wizard with a wig placed atop it. I had put the diadem on his head."

And the three split up, hurrying through the towers of treasures, eyes straining for any sight of the headpiece. Once or twice Ron and Hermione called out, but retracted their statement a moment later as the realized there was no diadem on the head of the bust they had found.

"Oh, I've found it! Harry, really!" Hermione yelled, anticipation and excitement building up in her as she stared up at the pockmarked old bust, eyes trained on the diadem as if it might suddenly disappear if she so much as blinked. She heard footsteps running toward her, and then Harry was climbing up on and old chest, stretching to grab the diadem.

Harry was nearly crying in relief as he climbed down, and he hugged Hermione with such a force that she had to gasp for breath. "I love, Hermione, I really do," Harry muttered thickly. He turned to Ron and hugged him too, wiping his eyes. But as Harry pulled away to look at his best friends he frowned, his bros furrowing. "But how are we going to destroy these things?"

There was a silence for a while before Hermione spoke up. "How did Dumbledore destroy the ring?"

"I dunno. Magic maybe," Harry replied. Hope was leaving them just as fast as it had come. Not even Hermione was brilliant enough to find a way to destroy the Horcruxes by magic. After all, Dumbledore had decades of magic behind him.

Ron had been quiet, apparently lost in deep thought. "Harry, remember in second year, when you defeated the Basilisk?"

"Yes, what about it?" Harry responded, slightly irked at his friend's odd thinking.

"Well, when you stabbed Riddle's journal, it must have been the poison that destroyed it, right?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, Ron. What are you getting at?"

But Ron had a triumphant look on his face. "Well, what do we know was also drenched in Basilisk poison and would be strong enough to break through these things?"

Hermione let out a little squeal of delight. "Oh, Ron, you're absolutely brilliant! Harry—Gryffindor's sword!" she cried. "And it's still hanging in Dumbledore's office!"

And comprehension dawned on Harry as though a Bludger had hit him. Of course the sword would work; in fact, it was probably exactly the thing Dumbledore had used, come to think of it. And it would be perfect, really, except—"We'll have to get into Snape's office."

The words echoed off the walls, and the three of them stood in silence. "This is it then," Hermione whispered. "The time has come."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yeah, because after these," Harry lifted the moleskin pouch Hagrid had given him years ago, "then it'll just the snake and then him."

The air was tense, thick with anxiety and the knowledge of the impending battle. After all these years of fighting and all the deaths, it was finally coming to a head. "We should alert the Order," Hermione stated, her voice rather small.

"Look, you and Ron go and alert McGonagall, and I'll deal with Snape."

"No way," Ron interjected, "I'm going with you."

"Me too, Harry."

"It's too dangerous. And someone needs to alert the Order."

"Right then. I'll go with Harry, and you go tell McGonagall."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but Harry cut in, "Please, Hermione. The Order needs to know."

It was a lost cause; Hermione knew that her best friends wouldn't have it any other way. "Oh all right. But you meet me there in twenty minutes, or else I'll go looking for you myself."

Together they walked out the door, wands gripped tightly in their hands. But no sooner had they stepped through the door when a loud voice yelled, "You three!" The trio whipped around and saw the squat form of Alecto Carrow striding towards them. Hermione felt a surge of hate rise in her, resentment and anger shooting through her every nerve. "You know that you're not allowed to be out of your dormitories if you're not at Hogsmeade." Alecto stared suspiciously at them. "What's than in your pocket? _Accio!_"

And with mingled fear and surprise, Harry watched the Marauders Map fly into Alecto's hands. He made to grab the map, but it was too late. Harry had forgotten to wipe the map blank. "What is—?" And what Harry dreaded would happen happened. Alecto's eyes caught on a certain spot on the map, and her mouth formed two words. Harry Potter. Quicker than any of the trio could react, Alecto had their wand on them and, "_Finite._" A quick glance at Ron's reddening hair and the darkening of Hermione's locks told Harry that Alecto had negated the effect of Hermione's transfigurations. But Hermione took advantage of Alecto's momentary surprise.

"_Petrificus totalus!_" Alecto fell to the floor with a thud, face contorted in surprise and fury. "Quick, help me." And they managed to drag Alecto behind a great stone pillar.

"There's not much time now, go!" Harry yelled before he took off down the long hallway, Ron following in his footsteps.

And Hermione felt very alone again, but Harry was right, there wasn't much time. So she tore off down the corridors, winding in and out of hallways and sidestepping obstacles, as she approached her destination. Panting, clutching a stitch in her side, Hermione pounded on the door, wand held in front of her in case anything else happened.

But the voice that came was familiar, if annoyed. "Severus, really, I've already—" But Minerva McGonagall stopped in mid-sentence, her mouth hanging open as she stared at the woman before her. "Granger!" Hermione had ushered McGonagall inside before she said anything else. "Explain," the Transfiguration teacher ordered as she sat down behind her desk and offered Hermione some pastries.

And Hermione gave a terse explanation, careful to avoid giving away too much information about the Horcruxes. Instead, she drew McGonagall's attention to the pressing need to call on the Order, especially because someone would find Alecto Carrow any moment and alert the Death Eaters, as well as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"And Harry and Ron?"

"They went to Snape's office," Hermione gritted out. Immediately McGonagall rose to leave, but Hermione grabbed her former teacher's arm and said, "No. They will meet us here in another ten minutes. Right now you _must_ alert the Order."

Minerva seemed to stutter for a moment more before she nodded and excused herself. And now all that was left was for Hermione to wait. As a form of pure torture, a clock was hung on the wall directly across Hermione, and she watched in agony as the minutes ticked by. First five, seven, ten, fifteen minutes. Where were Harry and Ron? And where was McGonagall for that matter?

"That's it!" Hermione cried, clambering up out of her chair. "Four years of waiting is quite enough!"

But the door burst open before she could get there. Harry stood before her, his wand drawn, but he quickly lowered it and beamed at Hermione. Ron appeared behind him, brandishing the sword of Gryffindor. "Snape wasn't there when we broke in," Harry explained. "But just as we were leaving, he appeared. But then McGonagall shows up with Flitwick and Slughorn, and the coward flees," Harry concluded scathingly. "But Alecto's gone, I think Amycus must have found her." Suddenly the air was rent with Harry's yell of pain as he clutched his forehead in agony. Hermione gripped Harry and steadied him. "He knows," Harry managed to mutter. "I think he's checking his Horcruxes first."

The trio congregated into the center of the room, where there was a circle of cool stone. Harry fumbled in the moleskin pouch and took out the Horcruxes they had gathered. Slytherin's locket was the first to go, and it was Ron who pierced it. Harry skewered the cup of Hufflepuff, and Hermione brought Gryffindor's sword crashing down on Ravenclaw's diadem, effectively breaking it in half. Each time there would be a faint scream of agony, and a dark liquid seeped out through the puncture wound of the objects.

Before they had time to celebrate, however, screams broke the silence of the castle, and the trio ran outside in time to witness students rushing into the halls. The three adults forced their way through the inundation of pupils into the Great Hall. The Order were assembled in a tight line, facing the entrance. The Weasley family, Remus, Tonks, Shacklebolt, Neville, Luna, Dean, Deamus, the Creevey brothers, Cho; the line went on and on, and the three friends' spirits soared as they took in the sight. It seemed that all the D.A. members were there, all the Hogwarts teachers as well.

But it was someone else that Hermione sought ought. She scanned the sea of people, searching for him. And then Hermione spotted him, his blond hair sticking out like a sunflower in a field of violets. He was down near the end of the line, tall and regal, tensed and ready. And as Hermione ran towards him, her footsteps echoing loudly on the floor of the room, he turned to look at her, his eyes widened in utter disbelief and his mouth opened slightly in shock. And Hermione launched herself into the arms of Draco Malfoy, kissing him full on the lips.

Draco, momentarily shocked, could only stand there. But as Hermione continued showing her affections, Draco's arms snaked around Hermione's waist, and he drew her in, responding with much enthusiasm. They broke apart, and brown eyes met grey. Draco cupper Hermione's face again and kissed her all over. At last he pulled away slightly, their noses touching, panting slightly. The eyes of the Order were boring holes into them, but it didn't matter, not one bit. Not after four years of longing and heartache.

The sun was beginning its descent in the sky, and orangey glow flooding through the window. There was a loud bang from outside, and the castle trembled. But the two lovers continued to gaze at each other. They stared at one another almost hungrily, drinking in every little facial feature and committing it to memory. "I've missed you so much," Hermione whispered, closing her eyes and succumbing to Draco's embrace.

"I've missed you too." And how true it was.

Another loud bang, and the castle shook more violently. There would be time for tears, for anger, for making up later, because right now Death Eaters were attempting to break through the castle doors. It was because of the cold, high-pitched voice that pierced the air that Hermione and Draco broke apart. "Give me Potter," it commanded. "I know that you are prepared to fight, but you will fail. I do not want to spill magical blood. Give me Harry Potter and you shall be spared. You have one hour."

There was a deafening silence and screams broke out anew. But above the din came Kingsely Shacklebolt's booming voice. "We need to evacuate the students," he ordered. "Is there an entrance out of the castle?"

"We're your men for the job," called Fred and George, as the twins and Lee Jordan stepped up from the line. "We'll take the little ones out."

"If you are of age and wish to stay and fight, well then, I won't stop you," McGonagall told the crowd of students that were huddled together behind the Order members. "The rest of you will follow Fred and George Weasley and Lee Jordan to the passage."

There was almost a stampede as the underage students hurried to follow the Weasley twins and their friend. "Hermione!" It was Harry and Ron, and Hermione knew she would have to leave.

The brunette turned back to Draco and stared at him for a moment longer. Four years of pent up emotions unspoken between them, and Hermione, caught in the moment, grabbed Draco to her, and kissed him hard. The passion flared up between them, four years of longing and loving all confined to a few minutes of undying passion and emotion. It was a desperate last attempt to show their love before the storm, a storm that would certainly claim more than one person they knew. "Hermione!" It was closer this time, and the couple broke away, staring at each other with such intense feelings that it seemed all around them were temporarily suspended.

"I love you," Hermione told him fiercely.

"I love you. I love you, I love you," Draco repeated, embracing Hermione once again, as though it would be the last time.

"I'll see you later," she murmured, kissing him again. And she slipped through his fingers, once again, and Draco was left to stand there, staring after her. But there wasn't time to linger because the doors to the castle were being broken open and Death Eaters were pouring through, and they were engaged in battle.

It was a whirl of color, spells misfiring and missing each other, sometimes hitting the intended, and other times hitting an ally. And suddenly there was silence and they were clearing the dead. Draco scanned the crowd, his throat tight as he recognized faces from both sides, and his heart hammering in his chest. With a jolt he saw her, her brown hair splayed across her face as she comforted Ron and Ginny. Draco's eyes turned to the sobbing woman next to them, and he realized with a jolt that Mrs. Weasley was sobbing on the chest of the elder Weasley twin. Draco backed away slowly, feeling queasy, and turned about to help others clear up the debris and such. Harry was nowhere to be seen, and Draco couldn't bear the sight of the Weasley family. To think that he might have been the one to cause them such grief.

They lined them up in a row in the center of the hall, taking great pains to clear the dirt from their faces and wipe away any blood. The Death Eaters were thrown outside, left to be fetched by their own group, if at all. They waited in the quiet for who knew how long, as they shared their grief openly with one another, one big mass of hurting and determination. The minutes ticked by, and just as it seemed that the battle was over, a triumphant cry came from the boundaries of the Forbidden Forest, and within minutes Voldemort led his minions and Hagrid into the castle doors, the great half-giant carrying Harry in his arms.

Wails arose all around Draco, and he shrank back, knowing he wouldn't be able to get out of this one alive, not if Harry was dead and Voldemort would reign supreme. But even as Neville sliced off the head of Voldemort's great snake and the battle resumed with much more emotion and cacophony, Harry had disappeared and the curses seemed to be bouncing off most of the Order.

But then it happened, just as Harry had revealed himself to Voldemort, and all was looking up. Hermione was caught off guard, and slipped on someone's robe. Bellatrix gave a triumphant grin and aimed her wand at the falling woman. Draco wasn't aware that he was running forward, but he seemed to be getting closer and closer to the brunette. Bellatrix didn't have to say it aloud, she was more than competent and silent spells. But it was just as effective as if had been said aloud, anyway. The jet of green light shot forth from her wand, and caught Hermione right in the chest as the woman fell forward. Hermione was lifted off the ground completely by the force of the spell and her body arced as if she was a cat stretching. Her long hair whipped about her face as she fell to the earth once again, as if in slow motion.

Without even a second thought, Draco aimed his wand at the black haired woman and roared all the curses he had ever learned, and Bellatrix slumped to the ground in a mass of bloody, twisted, mangled body parts, just as Draco jumped forward and caught the falling woman in his arms. Her eyes were open in shock, and it could have just been from the great fall she had just completed.

But her normally warm and twinkling chocolate eyes were staring past Draco, glossed over as if she were unseeing, and as Draco turned Hermione's head to stare at him instead, her eyes reflected the warm morning light pouring through the window. But it was that light only that was reflected back at him, because the twinkling of life Hermione's deep eyes had always reflected back at him had ceased, to be replaced by the soft morning light that she would never see again.


	9. Adalae

**Adalae**

The sun was shining brightly as it always had done, and would always continue to do, completely disregarding the fact that the congregation of people in the Great Hall of Hogwarts was now in a state of deep grief. There had been cheering when it happened, pats on the back, hugging, kissing and crying. Harry had worn a triumphant smile, and accepted all the thanks, but his eyes scanned around the room for his best friends. Ron had come running towards Harry and had congratulated him and hugged him, and the two men looked about for the third member of their trio expectantly.

Despite the mass of people that were blocking his way, Harry fought his way through the crowd to the place where Draco was sitting hunched over, grasping Hermione's limp body to his chest. "Hermione!" Harry called, the smile still plastered onto his face. But she didn't look up, didn't even stir, and as Harry's joyful strides became a panicked run over to the woman in Draco's arms, his face fell and he began to dread. Ron was right behind him, and the pair stopped just a few inches away from Draco and Hermione, neither of whom acknowledged the two men.

There was a dead silence, and a circle had formed around the little group. Harry took a tentative step towards Hermione and Draco's head shot up, his wand pointed straight at Harry. It seemed to take a moment to realize who it was, but Draco lowered his wand, and then stared down at the woman in his arms, then back at Harry. Green eyes met grey in disbelief and panic as Harry dropped to his knees and tugged at the ends of Hermione's long hair, cupped her face and felt the cold skin beneath his palms. Ron stared on in disbelief for a moment before a loud sob was ripped from his throat and Harry broke down before them.

Draco stared at Hermione's countenance, her blank stare, her pale face, and even obliged when Ron gently took her limp body away from him to cradle his best friend himself. Harry grabbed Draco's shoulder to beseech him, "Who?"

It was the hardest thing Draco would have to say to the boy, he thought. The woman had already cost Harry his godfather after all, and now his best friend. "Bellatrix Lestrange." The very name sent rage coursing through Draco, and he knew Harry felt the same as the grip on Draco's shoulder became immensely more painful. But the blond haired man didn't care, not when this had happened. And then it was all Draco could bear to not take his grief out on everyone right there, all the captured Death Eaters, and the already mangled form of Bellatrix. He stood up roughly and strode out of the castle. Draco heard someone yelling his name from behind him, but he didn't care, not one bit. He could hear someone running behind him, could hear Harry's cries of grief coupled with the Weasley family and D.A. members, and it only caused Draco to pump his legs harder, to get away from it all.

How could he…how could he go on when his only reason for living, these past four years and forever, had been the thought of holding her in his arms again, holding her and loving her? Starting a family, maybe, and marrying Hermione in a small reception. He would completely renovate Malfoy Manor, get rid of all the Dark Magic books and artifacts, buy his mum a little house on the sea shore and start a family with Hermione. They would visit Narcissa every weekend, he'd oblige to sit through Weasley family meals, and they would have three or four kids running about the place. Draco would teach them Quidditch, and Hermione would insist on making them learn Muggle things, and they'd argue and wind up in bed making up because of it. But then her wide, blank eyes came into his mind and Draco collapsed where he was, his body heaving with the effort to still breathe through his tears.

"Draco!" He didn't even turn to the voice; just lay there, heaped on the grass somewhere outside on the castle grounds. "Draco." The voice was next to him now, soft and out of breath. Apparently she'd been running after him.

"What Ginny?" It was all he could manage.

Said woman gently took him by the shoulders and heaved him up to look at her. He must have looked a mess, bloodshot eyes, dirt, sweat and blood all streaking his face. But he didn't care. He doubted if he could. Ginny's soft hair tickled his face as she sat him back against a tree and took a deep breath, readying herself for something Draco was sure he wouldn't care about.

"Draco, there's something I need to tell you."

He glanced up at her, a sudden curiosity gnawing at him. But then Hermione's pale face came into his mind again, her limp forming being cradled in the arms of Harry or Ron or both, and he decided he probably wouldn't care anyway. "I don't want to hear it. Leave me alone."

But Ginny was not about to be shrugged off, and her voice raised a few notches in her anger. "Listen, Draco, you're not the only one whose lost something, okay? I lost my brother in there, and I lost Hermione too. I lost Remus and Tonks. I nearly lost everyone, so don't give me that tone!" Draco stood up in his anger, opening his mouth to retort, but a wand pointed at his face made him close it again. Ginny pointed her wand to the ground indicating to him that he should sit. After a moment of angry resistance, Draco plopped on the ground and fixed the redhead with a piercing glare. Ginny opened her mouth to speak again, but a sob escaped her instead, and she turned about for a minute as she tried to steady herself.

"Listen, there's been some things that Hermione had been meaning to tell you, but didn't." At Draco's sharp look she added, "Not because she didn't trust you, but because she didn't want you to get into any more trouble."

Draco let out a short bark of a laugh, and asked sardonically, "Didn't want to get me in trouble? Because of course my life was perfectly worry free for these four years."

Ginny forced away the urge to slap the man before her and controlled her temper enough to say, "Well this concerns you a great deal more than you'd think." Ginny and Draco sat in silence a few more minutes as they gazed up at the sky, watching the clouds pass by, but not really seeing them. "Hermione was in hiding in my Aunt Muriel's place," Ginny said after a while. "But you know, I think Hermione would be able to explain it better. Follow me, will you?" When Draco showed no indication of moving, Ginny gripped him by the arm and forced him to follow her back into the castle.

"What the hell are you on about?" Draco asked in annoyance. "You know as well as I do that Hermione—" But Draco still couldn't bear to finish the sentence. To admit to himself that Hermione was…

To his surprise, Ginny led him straight to Mrs. Weasley, who was rushing about, trying to comfort others and fix wounds, anything to keep herself busy. But when she caught sight of her daughter and Draco coming towards her, she stopped what she was doing and sighed. "Have you told him then?"

"No, mum. Remember that chest that Hermione kept, the one with all the bottles? Well, I think it'd be better for him to see them. It's what she intended them for, in any case."

"Right then, I'll go get them. Just bring Draco to the Headmaster's office would you?" Molly asked her daughter, casting Draco a sympathetic look. She hurried away to the nearest fireplace and was engulfed in a flash of green flames.

Draco followed Ginny patiently, the faces of the people he passed turned curiously in his direction as he walked behind the redhead. And then he was there in the office, and it was exactly as it always had been. The pensieve was out already, Ginny noticed, and she gestured to Draco to sit him down. They sat there in silence, neither one keen to talk, both still too fresh with grief to mention anything to one another. And soon enough there was a clambering outside the door, and Mrs. Weasley walked in carrying the chest that Ginny had mentioned, and set in on the ground near the pensieve. She reached in and pulled out a bottle marked with the number one, and carefully uncorked it, and poured it into the basin.

"Well, there you go dear, I'm sure it'll explain everything. There are quite a few in here. We'll be in the Great Hall when you're ready to come down. Ginny dear, we best get down there. Harry and Ron and…" But Molly trailed off as her shoulders started to shake again and she hurried out the room.

Draco walked over to the stone container and stared into the swirling silver that wasn't liquid or mist. He leaned forward over it and suddenly he found himself in a place he had never been before.

_It was a large house, just as Mrs. Weasley had described. There were at lest seven bedrooms and nine other rooms besides. Hermione wondered incredulously what such an old woman would want with such an enormous house. Hermione followed Mrs. Weasley up a hallway and turned left into a room. There was a large bed in there, and a little window that looked out into a garden just outside. But Draco realized with a jolt that Hermione had something in her arms. A small bundle covered with a blanket. Upon moving closer to her, Draco stumbled back in surprise as he realized it was a baby. He watched as Hermione crawled onto the bed, careful of her child and leaned back against the pillows, exhausted.__  
__  
_It was more than he could bear, so Draco forced himself from out of the memory and with shaking hands, he used his wand to place the silvery substance back in its proper bottle. The bottles clinked together as Draco pulled one out randomly, labeled twenty-three, and poured the substance into the basin once again. He leaned over it and found himself back in the room._  
__  
__Quite a few months had passed; it may have even verged on two years. Hermione was sitting on the bed and the baby was propped up across from her with a pillow, grasping a little stuffed black dog. Hermione smiled at the baby and wiggled her fingers, and the baby laughed delightedly. Draco fell to his knees beside the bed and watched the scene play out before him.__  
__  
__"Who am I?" Hermione asked the child.__  
__  
__"Mummy!" the baby answered, stretching its arms out to her mother.__  
__  
__"And do you know Daddy's name?" Hermione asked the little one before her, allowing the child to grasp her fingers in its tiny hands.__  
__  
__The baby was quiet for a moment before it responded, "Sirius."_

_Hermione laughed delightedly and tickled the baby. "No, silly. That is Sirius," she replied, pointing at the little stuffed dog that was sitting in the child's lap. "You remember. What's Daddy's name?"_

_The baby looked at the little cuddly toy for a moment, then up at Hermione. "Draco," was the proud reply._

_Hermione scooped the child up into her arms and kissed its face all over. "That's right! And do you know what?"_

_"Mmmm?"_

_"He loves you very much," Hermione answered, setting the child back down. "And can't wait to see you."_

_The baby smiled widely at its mother and crawled across the bed to lay down with her. "I love you."_

_Hermione smiled down at the baby, brushing back the soft brown waves. "I love you too."__  
_  
The scene misted over and Draco felt himself hit the cold office floor again. Without ado Draco replaced the memory and fumbled about for another one. It was labeled forty-one, and he poured it into the pensieve, falling into the memory quickly.

_They were gathered around a large table in the kitchen. It was late autumn again, judging by the warm colors of the few leaves that still clung to the otherwise bare trees outside. There was Mrs. Weasley, Ginny, an old woman that Draco assumed was Aunt Muriel, and Hermione. They were gathered around a little girl with long, wavy hair and shining grey eyes. It was her birthday, apparently, for in front of her was placed a round cake decorated in white icing with green and pink flowers that adorned the top. There were four candles placed aesthetically on the cake, and a name was written in purple icing: Adalae. _

_The four women were singing Happy Birthday and the little girl grinned with delight. With a jolt Draco realized that a picture of himself was set up next to the little girl. He was singing along as well and smiling as he gazed upon his daughter, and Draco felt his heart clench. When the song ended, the little girl blew out the candles and her mother asked, "What did you wish for, Adalae?"_

_The girl turned her face up to her mother and answered, "That Daddy would come visit us and we could all live together happily." _

_Hermione fought down a sob, kissed her daughter and excused herself from the room. Draco half followed Hermione, but stayed within sight of Adalae digging into her vanilla cake. He turned, however, when he heard a voice._

_"Draco, I love you so much. I wish you were here watching your daughter grow up. She's gorgeous, and she has your eyes. But when this is all over, you, me and her are going to be so happy." It was Hermione, but she wasn't talking to him. Her face was turned in the direction of a photo on the wall of her room, and Draco saw himself smiling down at the softly crying Hermione, whispering things to comfort her._

_"Mummy! Don't you want some cake?" _

_"Yes of course, silly child!" Hermione called back, wiping her eyes and putting a smile on. Her fingers lingered on the photo of Draco for a moment before she hastened back to the other room and accepted the slice of cake her daughter was offering her._

Again the scene was getting foggy, and Draco could feel himself being called back to the Headmaster's office.

When he hit the floor this time, Draco couldn't bring himself to move for a few minutes. He had a daughter. And Hermione hadn't told him. And suddenly it all made sense. Why she had left so suddenly, why he hadn't seen her in four years. He had a daughter. A daughter. Draco kept repeating this though in his head, trying to grasp the concept, but it wasn't coming. He'd have to see her himself, he decided, make sure she was real.

With a huge effort Draco pulled himself up from the ground and once again replaced Hermione's memory. Hermione. She really had thought things through. Saving memories for him so he could watch his daughter grow up.

Just as Draco was going to shut the chest, he noticed and envelope taped onto the inside of the lid. He carefully pulled it free of it's restrictions, and opened the flap. Pulling out several sheets of paper he read:

_Draco,_

_If you're reading this, then I'm assuming that I've not made it, or perhaps I've just decided to let you read it anyway. I sincerely hope it is the latter and not the former. _

_As I'm sure you are well aware of now, love, you have a daughter. She's gorgeous and bright, but she has such a mischievous personality, I wonder if you weren't more playful than I thought. She's sleeping right now, and she's everything you would ever love. I'm leaving tonight, to find Harry and Ron. But just in case there wasn't time to tell you, I had to explain._

_I'm sure you were wondering why I never told you. Why I disappeared for four years without even a word. Draco, I simply couldn't tell you about Adalae. If I did, and you were captured, then they would know, they would know everything, and I couldn't let that happen. She's so precious; she's just like you. You don't know how many times I dreamed of telling you, of running away, the three of us, to a place where no one would know us, and just living our lives together happily. But life isn't so easy. If I told you, then you would probably go and do something stupid, like try and kill Voldemort, and I just didn't think I could bear our daughter growing up without knowing how wonderful her father is._

_Draco, love, I hope you're not mad at me. You honestly don't know how much I love you; have loved you all these years. I'm writing this confident in the fact that I will walk out of this, holding your hand, and greeting out little girl together. Because that is how it's meant to be. But I had to write this…just in case. _

_Draco, I love you so much, really I do. And if for some reason I don't come out of this alive, I want you to take care of Adalae, tell her stories of us, of all my adventures and yours. And show her pictures of me, and let her watch our memories together. And _do_ let her play with Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley, will you? She's been so lonely all these years, and while I'm completely willing to make her some brothers and sister, I find myself without the means. [Hopefully we will remedy that soon.]_

_But if I die, yes, Draco, there is a chance that I may die, then I want you to take such good care of our daughter. Raise her the way you know I would want, and don't hold yourself back from love. Love her with all your might. And if somewhere down the road you do find someone else, and you know that you love her just as much as you love me, then I give you my blessing to love her as well. Just because I may have left doesn't mean I don't want you to be happy, I do. Very much._

_I love you Draco, with every little bit of myself, forever and for always. I'll see you soon._

_Love,_  
_Hermione_

_P.S. In the little side pouch I've also enclosed letters for Harry, Ron, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Adalae. Though I request that you'll give the latter her letter when she's a bit older and will understand. I love you! _

Draco hastened to wipe his eyes of their tears lest he should mar the letter Hermione had written him any more than he already had. He painstakingly refolded it and tucked it back inside its envelope, then placed it on top of the bottles of memories. Draco shut the chest gingerly and decided he would come back for it later. Right now all that mattered was getting back to Hermione and meeting his daughter. His daughter. The thought struck a chord somewhere in Draco, and for the first time in a long time he felt a raw feeling fill him up. Happiness, he concluded. He was happy. A bit ironic, in light of the tragedy that had just occurred, but then, he realized suddenly, he had something to live for once again.

Draco made his way slowly down the stone steps and in a daze walked into the Great Hall. The dead bodies were being carted away to a tent outside the grounds by Healers to be cleaned up best they could before their service. Draco saw the Weasley's and Harry gathered around in a tight circle. As they heard him approach, they all turned to look at him, and Draco felt uncomfortable under their gaze.

They broke apart slightly and in the center were three children. All of them appeared to be around the same age. There was a boy with a heart shaped face and turquoise hair that Draco knew to be Teddy Lupin. Another was a girl, younger than the other two perhaps, with silvery hair and bright blue eyes, Fleur and Bill's daughter, no doubt. And there, in a pale pink dress, waist length golden-brown hair and glittering grey eyes was Adalae.

The three children stopped and looked up at the newcomer, and when Adalae realized whom it was she broke into a smile and ran to her father. Draco knelt down to her so that she could hug him rather than his knee, and he placed his arms around the small girl. After several moments she drew back and Draco took a good look at her. She looked almost exactly like Hermione. Her face was slightly more pointed, and her hair wasn't bushy as Hermione's had been when she was young, but she had his eyes. Grey pools that were sparkling with excitement.

She pulled him down so that she could whisper in his ear. "My name is Adalae Ginerva Malfoy. And you're my Daddy," she told him, a note of triumph in her voice. "Daddy, why are you crying?"

He hadn't known he was and Draco wiped them away hurriedly, pulling Adalae into a hug again. He kissed her and brushed the hair off her face and let himself hold her for a while longer. "I'm crying because I'm so happy that I've finally met you," he told her. Draco lifted his daughter up off the ground and swung her around in a circle. "And because I love you so much." He hugged the child close to himself again and closed his eyes tightly, his heart hurting in a mixture of grief and joy that he couldn't explain. She looked so much like Hermione, and yet, here she was, her entirely own person.

Off in the distance the sun was shining brightly overhead and pouring onto the ground, as the Healers were busily running back and forth to retrieve the wounded or dead. Draco didn't see Hermione anywhere, but he knew that she was there in the tent among the many others who had died as a result of the war. For a moment Draco felt bitterness and resentment well up in himself again. He thought of how unfair it had all been, that so many children were orphans, that so many had lost someone, and he thought for a brief moment that this wasn't worth it, that none of it was.

But then Adalae squirmed in his arms and he looked down at her innocent little face, struggling to get free and play with her friends and he realized that it was. That all the grief, the scars that would remain, the memories that would haunt them all for life were indeed worth it. Adalae was living proof of that.

**_End._**

**A/N:** I want to thank all my lovely readers for joining me on this journey! I really appreciate all your kind words and ardor for my story, and I hope I have created something you all enjoyed, despire the whole Hermione being dead part! As a quick note, I am working on adding a little more to this story, in chapter two probably, so just be on the look out for any of that! Again, thanks so much to all my lovely reviewers, with special shoutouts to: lacking a better name and readerforlife. But I love you all very much, thank you!


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